


Post It

by Devereauxs_Disease



Category: Adam (2009), Charlie Countryman (2013), Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Extended Universe - Fandom, Spacedogs - Fandom
Genre: 15-ish years of mutual pining, Adam just loves his friend, Angst with a Happy Ending, But also conflicted, Childhood Friends to Lovers, F/M, Hannibal Extended Universe, I'll warn you when that comes up, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nigel is smitten, Nigel moves to NYC when he's 10, Nigel's gonna have a rough 15 years Y'all, Parent Death, Until he meets a kid who won't stop sharing space facts, eventually, he hates it, like so much pining, sorry in advance y'all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2020-12-20 19:34:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 55,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21062030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devereauxs_Disease/pseuds/Devereauxs_Disease
Summary: Nigel moves to America when he's 10 years old. He hates every second of it. But when a kid in his class slaps a Post It note with a space fact on Nigel's back - his whole world changes. Nigel gets a new best friend, a new hobby, and a love story that he's not sure has a happy ending. Is it possible to meet the love of your life at 10? Nigel's about to find out.





	1. Elementary School

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gwilbers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gwilbers/gifts).

> SO...what seems like decades ago, I asked my beta, Gwilbers, if I could write them a story, since they dedicated a considerable chunk of their free time to reading my word vomit. Gwilbers told me they didn't have a prompt, but liked my Spacedogs stories. I thought _cool, I'll write a cute quick one shot for them_.  
...50k later...  
Uh...surprise Gwibs? I wrote you a fic, that is long and angsty but features Nigel and Adam? Hope you like it.  
This fic isn't just mine, though. I would have never finished it if my beloved Ish hadn't kicked my butt when I thought about giving up and let me whine when the words wouldn't come. She's the reason this story exists. I'd also like to shout out to Mars, who also offered me a sympathetic ear when these two just wouldn't...stop...talking...  
Finally, a million thanks go to Llewcie, who volunteered to beta my nonsense, because it's not much of a surprise if I made Gwilbers edit her own present.  
I hope everyone enjoys!

Nigel frowned at the note from the teacher. He’d be damned if he handed this to his Mamă without knowing what it said first. Staring at the paper, Nigel groaned — his English was bad enough without having to decipher Mr. Louis’ chicken scratch. There was a frowny face on it; that probably wasn’t a good sign. Maybe it had something to do with dangling that kid by the ankles in the stairwell. Nigel knew he was supposed to be sorry, but fuck if he was. Little shit had made fun of his accent — bet he wouldn’t tomorrow. 

Fucking America.

Mamă had promised him he’d get used to it. She’d sold everything they had just to get them across the ocean and to a shitty little apartment in the same complex as his tanti, who went back to Bucharest a month later. Mamă hadn’t liked his friends, hadn’t liked him hanging out with the older boys or running packages for them, hadn’t liked the words he picked up or the wads of cash he came home with. It wasn’t dangerous, the cops didn’t even notice him when they raided the building.

But Mamă had.

She’d seen him stuffing a brick of heroin behind his bed as the police screamed and kicked down doors down the hall. She started crying. Nigel tried to hug her, explain that he was a big boy and knew what he was doing, but she just kept crying through the night. In the morning, she’d woken him up by flopping an _English for Beginners_ book on his chest and telling him to study.

Three months later, Nigel was the only ten-year-old in third grade and he still didn’t get half the words that were written on the board. The teachers thought he was stupid, the kids thought he was crazy, and Nigel had stopped even trying to write in English.

It was a stupid language anyway. 

Now, he was going to have to hand another note to Mamă, get another lecture about being a good boy, and spend the night glaring out the window and wishing he was back home in Romania.

Nigel crumpled the note. Fuck Mr. Louis, let him call the house — Mamă worked 12-hour shifts, she wouldn’t be there to get the message.

He had just about decided to skip the rest of the day, maybe see if he could bum a cigarette off the older boys he saw hanging around the stoop of his building when he felt the slight brush of a hand on his back. He turned to see a kid walking by him and heard paper crinkle on his back.

Rage flared in Nigel. Another _kick me _sign?

He grabbed the kid, slamming him into the wall.

“YOU THINK YOU FUNNY?” Nigel snarled at the boy, whose hands flew to where Nigel grabbed him before fluttering to his middle to grip and tap at his shirt. The kid had bright blue eyes and close-cropped brown hair that curled at the ends. He looked like a little angel, not like the shitty snickering kids who kept making fun of the big dumb Romanian.

“D-d-don’t…” The kid seemed to crumple in Nigel’s hands, shaking and rocking under his fists. Guilt washed over him, he hadn’t meant to scare the kid this badly. He hadn’t meant to-

…wait a minute.

He had every right to be angry. Even if the kid did look kinda small. Nigel could feel him trembling and something about the sensation made Nigel's stomach churn.

Nigel shook his head. He wouldn’t be teased anymore. “You don’t want to get hit why you put _kick me_ sign on me?”

The boy’s eyes darted up, but never landed on Nigel’s. His breathing was panicked. “I d-did n-not.”

Nigel released the boy, who sank to the ground, huddled and rocking. He grabbed for the paper on his back, felt it crumple under his hands. He pulled it forward to look at it and frowned.

There were too many words for _kick me _on the Post It note…maybe an insult about his brain? The kids in the classroom had taken to calling him skullface — something about his sunken eyes.

“You think you just fucking say…” Nigel squinted at the words. He barely recognized any. He saw the word _sun_ and a number. He held the paper up to the trembling boy. “What it say? Don’t lie or I hit you.”

The boy ducked away further, stuttering something as he tried to protect his head. The adrenaline and rage had started to filter out of Nigel’s veins — his Mamă had always told him he saw red like his Tată when he was like this — and he took a long look at the boy by his feet.

He was smaller, Nigel guessed he was maybe in the grade below. He was dressed like one of the teachers, a little sweater and a button-down shirt tucked neatly into belted khakis. The way he kept his hands up around his head, hovering right by his ears made Nigel wonder if the little guy hadn’t been beaten up a few times before.

With a sigh, Nigel let himself slide down the wall until he was seated next to the boy. He didn’t touch him, didn’t try to talk him out of his fit, he just waited. In Nigel’s experience, no one but his Mamă could cry for more than 10 minutes straight.

Around minute eight, the boy’s breathing had begun to slow and deepen. His rocking had subsided too, though Nigel noted that the boy’s fingers still tapped frantically where they hovered in his hair. After a few more minutes, wide blue eyes peaked up from his knees, flying back and forth over Nigel’s face before settling over his shoulder.

Nigel held out the paper. “What it say?”

The kid blinked a few times before he spoke in a small voice. “99.86% of all of the mass of the entire Solar System is contained in the sun.”

Nigel looked at the paper again, as if the words would magically become clear. “What?”

“I-it’s true.”

“Why you put this on me?”

“I j-just like to share space facts,” The kid’s voice was so matter-of-fact. He liked space — it was that simple. Nigel turned and the boy flinched. “Are you going to h-hit m-me?”

Nigel shook his head. He brought the hand with the paper in it to his thigh, pressing out the wrinkles. “Tell me more about space.”

The boy in front of him smiled, and Nigel was struck by how bright his eyes were.

* * *

“Oh, that’s my dad, there.” Adam waved at a man waiting on the sidewalk. “Who picks you up?”

Nigel shrugged, glaring at his shoes. “Mamă working. I go alone.”

Adam nodded. “My mom died last year, so she doesn’t pick me up either.”

Nigel turned to him, almost tripping down the school stairs. “I’m sor- I not mean to-”

Adam smiled, stilling Nigel with a surprisingly strong hand. “It was very upsetting, especially for dad. But we have a new routine now and I have chores and homework, it’s OK.”

“My Tată, he died.”

Adam’s nose scrunched. “What’s a tata?”

“Like dad, but Romanian.”

Adam nodded, he held out his hand. Nigel took it, slightly bewildered by the firm shake. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

Adam clapped a hand on Nigel’s shoulder. “That’s what you’re supposed to do when someone dies.” 

Nigel squinted at Adam. Americans were fucking weird. All he remembered from his Tată’s funeral was his Mamă and tanti wailing, and how the echo of their misery in the halls turned his stomach, even when the nice lady down the hall offered him candy.

Nigel shrugged, clapping his hand on Adam’s shoulder and pumping their still linked hands up and down. “I’m very sorry for your…loss.”

Adam grinned. The boy tightened his grip on Nigel’s hand and dragged him down the rest of the stairs toward his father. “Dad! This is Nigel! He’s from Romania and has a dead father.”

Mr. Raki’s eyebrows shot up. He seemed to study Nigel for a moment before offering him a small smile. He extended a large hand to Nigel, who thought a moment before accepting it. “Marcus Raki.”

Nigel nodded then glanced at Adam, who watched the interaction with interest. Drawing a deep breath, Nigel reached up and clapped a hand on Mr. Raki’s shoulder. “I’m sorry about dead wife.”

Mr. Raki let out a startled laugh. “Thanks, Nigel.”

Glancing to the side, Nigel could see Adam nodding encouragingly. He felt a little glow in his chest, knowing he did the right thing.

* * *

“But why save pig?” Nigel slammed the book down with a frown.

Adam didn’t glance up from his copy of _Think like an Astronaut! How Do Rockets Work? _“But why save THE pig?”

Nigel huffed but corrected himself. “Why save THE pig? Pigs are for eating.”

“Because Wilbur wasn’t just any pig, he was SOME pig!” Mr. Raki winked at Nigel as he sat a plate of shortbread cookies down by the boys.

Adam’s father had agreed to watch the boys after school until Mamă got off work. The arrangement had been made the day after Nigel had complained to Adam about getting hassled by the older boys in his building. Mr. Raki had called Mamă and they had talked for nearly an hour; Nigel even got a hug for making a _nice boy _his friend.

Now, instead of taking the subway and coming home to an empty apartment, he trailed after Adam and Mr. Raki for three blocks and did his homework with Adam. Sometimes, Mr. Raki would stop at the park. Adam would read quietly while Nigel ran around shouting and chasing squirrels. Adam would never join in, but he’d laugh when Nigel tripped or started yelling in Romanian, and that always made Nigel feel warm inside.

“Pigs are for EATING,” Nigel insisted. “This silly and weak. No one get bacon if we don’t eat pig.”

Adam looked up and Nigel rolled his eyes, trying again. “This IS silly and weak. Americans are too nice to animals. We get no bacon that way.”

“Nigel is right,” Adam proclaimed before going back to his book. “It’s just a pig and spiders don’t know how to write.”

Mr. Raki just shook his head, ruffling Nigel’s hair as he walked back into the kitchen.

Nigel nudged Adam with his foot. Adam glanced at him. Nigel pulled a Post It note from his backpack with Adam’s careful handwriting on it. “I don’t believe this one.” 

Adam frowned. “It’s true. I wouldn’t lie.”

“A day on Venus is longer than a year,” Nigel read carefully. Adam had been helping him with his pronunciation, but he still felt self-conscious reading aloud. He put the paper back in his notebook. “How can that be true?”

Adam grinned, putting his book down and grabbing Nigel’s hand. Nigel started at the contact. Adam’s hand was cool, but it made Nigel’s arm flush hot. He shook his head as he followed Adam to his room.

Stopping by a model of the solar system on his desk, Adam dropped Nigel’s hand to start the planets moving. Nigel frowned down at his feet, clutching his hand into a fist and trying to remember exactly how smooth Adam’s hand had felt in his.

“This is Earth, right here,” Adam pointed to a blue ball. Nigel nodded. “It takes about 24 hours for it to rotate once. And it rotates constantly as it revolves around the sun.”

Adam spun the planet and Nigel watched as it twirled around the sun. “So, the Earth spins 365 or 366 times while it completes one revolution around the sun, see?”

“You told me that last week!” Nigel protested. “And a day isn’t 24 hours, you said it was 23 hours, 56 minutes and 4.09 seconds.”

Adam beamed. “That’s right! You remembered.”

Nigel could feel himself blush, ducking his head and muttering. “You put it on a Post It.”

“I did, on Tuesday.” Adam continued to grin at Nigel for a moment before he remembered the spinning solar system. He pointed to another planet. “This is Venus. And instead of turning every 23 hours, 56 minutes and 4.09 seconds, it takes 243 Earth Days to turn once.”

“That’s fucking slow!”

“Language!”

Both boys froze and turned toward the sound of Mr. Raki’s voice. After a moment, Adam resumed his lecture. “OK, so it takes 243 Earth days just to turn once, BUT it only takes 225 earth days for Venus to go around the sun!”

Nigel’s mouth dropped open. He squinted at the planet Adam was slowly spinning. “A day is longer than a year!”

Adam grinned.

* * *

Nigel sprang from the sofa and ran to the door the second the bell sounded.

“Nigel! No running!” Mamă smiled at him when he tripped over his feet to assume a more reasonable gait.

Throwing open the door, Nigel cleared his throat, he’d been practicing for days trying to get the sounds right. “Hell-O Ad-damn!”

Adam frowned immediately and Nigel felt his stomach clench like he’d been hit. Mr. Raki smiled, ruffling Nigel’s hair and moving past the boys in the hall to sit with Mamă and have coffee.

“Why you frowning?” Nigel tried again, clearly enunciating as best he could.

“Why do you sound like that?” Adam still looked upset and Nigel felt the cold angry feeling in his gut churning.

“I sound like you.” Nigel dropped his eyes from Adam’s clear disappointment to his feet, scuffing his shoes on the linoleum.

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” Nigel grumbled. One of the girls in his English class had begun imitating the way Nigel talked. The other kids would laugh and he had started to feel the anger bubble in his chest. But he had promised Mamă and Adam that he wouldn’t start anymore fights. So, he had started trying to copy the way people talked on TV.

“Don’t do that,” Adam said, his hand landing on Nigel’s arm. The cold sensation in Nigel’s gut warmed a bit. “I like when you sound like you.”

“I talk funny.”

“You talk like Nigel. Your accent is wonderful.” Adam smiled and Nigel wondered at how a simple upturn of those lips could make his chest feel tight and hot all at once. Adam’s hand squeezed Nigel just once. “Please don’t speak like that again.”

Adam walked by Nigel and straight for the boy’s room, leaving Nigel to smile and stare off after his friend.

* * *

“Can’t we just put them up already, Adam?” Nigel flopped on his bed. It had been 40 minutes and Adam was still sorting through his glow in the dark star stickers, ordering the 300 pack by size.

“Don’t you want accurate constellations?”

“No.”

Adam turned and scowled. “I do.”

“Fine.” Nigel sighed and picked up his homework, working on answering the reading questions.

Mamă walked in and smiled at the boys. “I brought you snack!”

“No thank you,” Adam said as he stacked more stars. “I don’t like your food.”

“Adam!” Mr. Raki called from the living room.

“I’m sorry,” Adam’s shoulders were tense. He started to rock just a bit in his seat. He looked at Mamă’s belt. “I don’t mean that your food is objectively bad, just that I don’t like it.”

Nigel froze. If he had dared say that to his tanti or Mamă he’d never live to see 11. But Mamă didn’t seem mad, she just smiled and sat the tray on Nigel’s little desk. “I know, Adam, different cookies this time. If you don’t like them, just drink milk.”

“You have the wrong-”

“I bought 2% this time, I called your Papa.”

“Oh,” Adam stilled, and smiled. “Then I’ll drink the milk!”

“Good boy,” Mamă said. She walked by Nigel, glancing at this notebook before ruffling Nigel’s hair. “You’re good boy too — so studious now.”

Mamă left and shut the door. Adam took a cautious sip of the milk before smiling and gulping some down. He looked at the cookies and frowned. “I’ve seen these before.”

Nigel rose and kneeled by Adam’s chair. “No good?”

“I don’t like the goo, it feels weird.” Adam looked at his hands. “S-sorry I’m weird.”

“You’re not weird.” Adam looked up and frowned. Nigel nudged him. “OK, you’re weird. But I like you weird. I talk funny and you act funny, deal?”

“Deal.”

Nigel grabbed an Oreo of the plate, twisting it and licking the crème from the center. He offered the cookies to Adam. “There, no goo.”

Adam scrunched his nose. “You licked it.”

“I brush teeth!” Nigel paused when Adam opened his mouth. Nigel held up a hand to stop Adam’s correction. “I brush MY teeth.”

Adam looked at the cookie, lips pursed. Gingerly, he took it. “I guess it’s OK, saliva is exchanged in some social interactions, like kissing.”

Nigel’s eyes went wide. He felt his cheeks heat as he watched Adam take a careful bite of the Oreo before chewing thoughtfully. He couldn’t seem to remember how to breathe, his eyes glued to Adam’s mouth, watching as a few black crumbs stuck to his bottom lip.

“I like them without the goo,” Adam looked up. His eyes fluttered all around before landing momentarily on Nigel’s face. With a smile, he raised a hand to Nigel’s cheek. “Your face is very red, are you OK?”

Nigel nodded, eyes still wide. Adam took the other half of the cookie from Nigel’s fingers and went back to sorting the star stickers. Nigel blinked and hurried to separate and lick another cookie. 


	2. Middle School - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam throws a fit...so does Nigel.

“LIAR! I HATE YOU I HATE YOU! LIAR!” Adam yelled at Nigel. The younger boy began to rock, his fingers drumming on his arms as he hugged himself. Nigel whipped around in a panic. He tried to touch Adam, but the boy flinched away screaming louder. People were beginning to gather and he didn’t know what to do. A few parents were demanding to know what he’d done.

The worst part was, Nigel didn’t know.

He’d made plenty of kids cry. He hit them or yelled at them or threatened to hit them when yelling, but with Adam, he was always so careful. His friend didn’t like loud noises, so he didn’t shout too much. Adam didn’t like certain foods, so he didn’t complain when they ate the same three things for lunch all summer. Adam dressed funny, but he never made fun of Nigel’s tattered goodwill clothes, so Nigel made sure everyone at school was too afraid to make fun of Adam’s stuffy sweaters and pressed khakis. They had spent the whole summer as best friends, but now Adam was shrieking and hitting himself and Nigel didn’t know why. He just knew it was his fault.

When Mr. Raki pushed through the ring of adults, Nigel could have cried. He watched as Adam’s Dad expertly dodged the boy’s hands when the flailed out, maneuvering Adam until he was pulled flush to his chest. Mr. Raki began to rock with Adam, beseeching him to breathe in a calm voice as the duo moved. 

Nigel thought it was magic. The screaming was the first thing to stop, Adam’s huffing breaths slowing as his father prompted him to fill his lungs slowly. They counted their breaths together, and soon Adam’s voice went from shaking to more solid. Then the rocking slowed and eventually Adam merely turned in his father’s arms to sniffle a bit.

Mr. Raki looked up at Nigel. “I think maybe we should get you home.”

“I-I didn’t mean. I don’t underst-”

“Let’s just get you home, OK?” Mr. Raki loosened his grip on Adam’s wrists, running his hands over the boy’s shaking shoulders and down his spine. “I need to get Adam home as soon as-”

“TAKE HIM! I DON’T CARE.” Nigel ran away from the park. He had his own MetroPass and he didn’t need Adam or Mr. Raki to help him. He didn’t need to watch Adam sniffle and Mr. Raki get angry. When he heard Mr. Raki calling after him to stop, Nigel ran faster, darting through the street and toward the subway entrance.

He made it onto a train and tried to count the stops. Adam would always read the stops aloud to him, letting him know when they needed to get ready to disembark. The memory of Adam’s soft voice made Nigel’s stomach churn. He didn’t need friends, not ones that yelled at him and not ones with stupid fathers that showed him how to play chess.

The apartment was empty when he got home; it usually was. Mamă worked late most days. Nigel stomped to his room and stopped short. The walls were decorated with drawings of planets, glowing star stickers were arranged perfectly on the ceiling, Post Its full of space facts were stuck all over the door of Nigel’s closet. Everywhere he looked, he could see Adam, but Adam wasn’t his friend anymore.

Adam thought he was a liar.

Adam hated him.

Something burned and burbled in Nigel’s chest, his skin felt too tight and his eyes stung. With a scream he flew at the walls of his room, grabbing pictures and tearing them in half. The stars were next, he stood on his bed and clawed at his ceiling ripping them down in his rage. He’d get rid of Adam Raki. He didn’t need him. He was happier without friends.

“Nigel? NIGEL WHY YOU RUN FROM MARCUS? HE CALL ME AND I HAVE TO LEAVE WORK TO-” Mamă gasped when she arrived in the doorway. Nigel glanced at her, at how angry she looked. She was always so disappointed in him, just like Adam and Mr. Raki were.

He wasn’t a good boy. He tried so hard, but-

He couldn’t stop the tears. It was embarrassing for a boy of his age to cry. If he was still in Romania the bigger boys he ran with would have hit him, called him a bitch. He turned to hide himself from his Mamă, maybe she’d just close the door and leave him alone. He sobbed harder when he felt her pull him to sit on the bed, soft arms around him.

“Bibic,_ shhhhhh_, hush now.” A hand ran through Nigel’s hair, he clutched Mamă harder. “What happen?”

“He hates m-me,” The words were muffled in his Mamă’s neck. He pushed back, gulping air. He made his face scowl, even as the tears fell. “I hate him too.”

“You hate Adam?” Nigel nodded, jaw clenched. Mamă brushed the tears from his face. “Then why you cry?”

“I’m not.” He knew he was still sobbing, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything.

Mamă sighed, pulling Nigel in to kiss his forehead and cradle him to her chest. He should fight it, big boys didn’t need Mamăs rocking them, but he melted into her arms. “Bibic, you very good at breaking things. Just like your Tată. But you know what your Tată also learn?”

Nigel shook his head.

“How to fix things. You can’t just break world, Nigel. You must fix too.”

“He hates me.”

“I don’t think he do. I think he angry.” She sat Nigel up in her arms and gesture to the room. “You happy you did this?”

“No.” Nigel muttered sullenly.

“But you do it anyway, yes? It’s hard sometimes when we upset to be good. Is the same for Adam. Maybe he hate you, but maybe he just afraid or sad.”

“What if he hates me?”

“What if he don’t? We won’t know until you try to fix. But first, we fix mess in here.” Mamă leaned forward and plucked something from his hair. She held up a torn star, stuck to her finger. “Now, where this one go?”

* * *

Nigel bit his tongue as he carefully wrote _I’m Sorry_ in bubble letters on the piece of poster board. Mamă had let him pick out some star stickers and pens to decorate his card. He still wasn’t quite sure what he’d done to Adam, but he wanted his friend to know he was really and truly sorry.

He looked at the book open beside his desk. Trying to copy the constellations precisely around the words, Nigel carefully affixed his star stickers. He was still debating whether he needed another constellation by the _M _when he heard the knock. He kept working until he recognized the man quietly murmuring to his mother.

Barreling out of his room, Nigel stuttered to a stop when he saw Adam. The boy looked nervous, wringing his hands and glancing at his father. Mr. Raki pushed Adam forward a little, toward Nigel. Adam looked down, his fingers tapping softly.

“I’m sorry.” Nigel blurted, looking back and forth between Mr. Raki and Adam. “I should not have run off. I should have stayed to be punished for making Adam cry.”

Mr. Raki smiled. “Don’t run off on me again, OK? Why don’t you and Adam go talk and I’ll talk to your Mom?”

Nigel nodded eagerly, but felt his stomach drop when Adam hesitated before following him into his room. Nigel stood by his bed, unconsciously mirroring the tapping of Adam’s hands for lack of anything else to do.

“Your stars are wrong.” Adam said, looking at the ceiling.

“I tried to fix them.”

“Some are torn…did you pull them down?”

Nigel flushed hot with shame. “I…I’m sor-”

“I’m sorry I yelled at you and said bad things.” Adam sat on the bed, looking at his hands. “Dad says I frightened you, but I don’t think that’s true. You’re never afraid of anything…Dad says I have to tell you about me, about why I get upset and need routines…about what happened yesterday.”

“I won’t do it again, I promise!”

“You might.” Adam said, his eyes dancing around the room. “I might get upset again. I have Asperger’s Syndrome, and that means I don’t see the world like you.”

Nigel sat next to Adam, careful not to touch. “You sick?”

Adam shook his head. “I’m not sick and I’m not stupid, my brain just doesn’t work like yours. Too much noise or strange situations or strange food, sometimes my brain works too hard to understand what’s happening and because so many things are happening, it doesn’t know what thing I should be paying attention to.”

Adam shifted, eyes flicking over Nigel’s face. “I’m not dumb. S-some of the other kids think I’m stupid.”

“You’re the smartest person I know.”

Adam smiled. “If my routine is off, or I get overstimulated-”

“What’s over-stim-u-lated?”

“Remember when we went to the Best Buy? And all the TV’s were tuned to a different channel? And it was loud, and I got so upset?”

“Your brain didn’t know what to do about the noises?”

“Yes! It’s like that, but sometimes it’s not noise, sometimes it’s just being outside, or food or-”

“What did I do, yesterday?”

“I wanted to go home, I didn’t like the park because it was crowded.” Adam bit his lip. “When I want something, I assume whoever is with me wants it too. My doctor said it’s called Mind Blindness.”

Nigel looked at shoes. “So, when I said we were staying, you got upset.”

Adam nodded. “I-it’s not fair and Dad says I need to work on asking if other people are feeling what I’m feeling.”

“I’m feeling sorry,” Nigel said. He took a chance and nudged Adam’s shoulder with his own. “What are you feeling?”

“I’m sorry too.”

Nigel nodded, standing. “Good. I won’t be so loud and you won’t cry until you ask me about feelings?”

“OK.”

Nigel offered Adam his hand, shaking it when the boy slipped his fingers into his palm. “We have deal, and we’re still best friends.”

Adam smiled, gripping Nigel’s hand a little harder. “That’s good.”

Nigel held Adam’s hand as the boy stood, surveying the room. “Can we fix your stars?”

“Yeah.”

“Good… DAD?” Adam called. “We’re best friends again. Can we go get some stars? I need to fix Nigel’s ceiling.”

Nigel smiled, still holding Adam’s hand until the boy pulled it back. “Oh, I almost forgot.”

Adam reached into his pockets and pulled out two folded Post It Notes. Carefully he unfolded them, smoothed them out, and pressed them to Nigel’s chest. “For today and yesterday.”

Nigel traced his fingers over the space facts, his smile stretching wide as he gazed at Adam. The boys ran into the living room, Nigel's apology forgotten on the desk in their eagerness to right their stars. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Note:**  
Bibic = Darling, it's Mamă's pet name for Nigel. 
> 
> **Next Up:**  
Adam learns that not all tough boys are as nice as Nigel.


	3. Middle School - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam learns he can't trust everyone, but he can trust Nigel.

Nigel looked at the clock above the bank of lockers — nearly 1:15. He drummed on his locker and waited for the soft brush of Adam’s fingers. Their schedules were pretty different this year, but Adam had figured out that he could pass by Nigel’s locker at 1:15 every day to deliver Nigel’s daily space fact. Nigel had to run across the whole school to make it, but it was worth it to get his space fact pressed to his back by familiar fingers.

By 1:20, Nigel felt a knot of tension balling in his stomach. Adam wasn’t late, ever. Something had to be wrong. When a pretty girl from his Civics class tapped him on the arm, asking if he wanted to sit with her for the group project, Nigel shook his head.

“I’ve got to check on something.”

Adam would be coming from English, Nigel tried to remember the route he preferred, weaving between students as he hurried up the stairs to the third floor. He couldn’t find Adam in the classroom, though Mr. Zeller said he’d left with all the other kids. Nigel was starting to worry his hands together when he heard a wail from the boy’s bathroom.

He crashed through the door in time to see Steve and Chris laughing as Adam shook on the floor of an open stall, a puddle of water around him. Nigel launched himself at the two laughing boys, roaring at them as his fist connected with Steve’s face. Chris ran past Nigel as he punched Steve, shouting for a teacher. Nigel didn’t care, he just focused on breaking Steve’s nose.

Nigel stopped when he heard a choking noise, turning to see Adam’s hyperventilation had gotten worse. He let Steve flop on the ground and moved to Adam.

“Adam? Adam! Breathe!” He pulled Adam into a seated position, but Adam seemed insensible to his presence. Trying to remember what Mr. Raki had done in the park, Nigel moved behind Adam. He pulled the rocking boy to his chest, wrapping his arms tight around him. They rocked together, while Nigel murmured whatever nonsense he could think of to calm him down. He tried the Romanian lullaby his mother used to sing. He tried telling Adam he’d never let anyone hurt him again. Finally, Nigel closed his eyes and started picturing little blue and purple squares of paper.

“99.86% of all of the mass of the entire Solar System is contained in the sun… In 3.75 billion years the Milky Way and Andromeda Galaxies will collide...The moon was once a piece of Earth… A day on Venus is longer than a year…The planet C-”

“You remember,” Adam whispered.

Nigel started. He hadn’t realized the boy in his arms had stopped rocking. “Of course I do, Adam.”

“T-they p-put my head in the t-toilet,” Adam began to shake again, yanking his arms free of Nigel's grasp to smack at his head. “They s-said they w-wanted to show me s-something. Stupid Adam! Stupid! STUPID! STUPID!”

Nigel grabbed at Adam’s hands, forcing them down. “Stop. STOP!”

When the tension left Adam’s limbs, Nigel released him. “Come on, let’s wash you off.”

Nigel stood, pulling Adam with him. He kept his friend close to his chest, still hugging him with his left arm. When he cleared the stall, he saw Mr. Zeller and one of the school police officers standing in the bathroom. The officer stepped forward but Mr. Zeller held out a hand to stop him. 

“Adam?” The teacher’s tone was soft. “Can I take you to the nurse’s office? She can help clean you up.”

Adam recoiled from Mr. Zeller, grabbing frantically at Nigel’s chest. Nigel tightened his grip, looking at the English teacher with defiance. He’d have to break Nigel’s arm if he wanted to get Adam away from him.

Mr. Zeller just smiled. “Nigel can come, Adam. He can stay with you until your father gets here, OK?”

Adam nodded, head still buried in Nigel’s chest. Behind them, Steve groaned.

“You can take Steve to the nurse and then to the office for me, can’t you Francis?” Mr. Zeller turned to the large officer, who nodded. “OK boys, let’s get out of here.”

* * *

Mr. Raki had stormed into the office in a panic, but stopped short when he saw Adam, fresh out of the locker room shower and wearing his gym uniform, talking to Nigel about his plans for his telescope. Mr. Raki walked over to Adam and carefully inspected his son, smoothing out his hair and smiling softly when Adam explained that _it was OK because the nurse let him take a shower and told him he wouldn’t get a deadly infection from ingesting and being submerged in toilet water. Also, Nigel broke Steve’s nose and now everyone would be afraid to mess with him, so it wouldn't happen again_.

When he released his son, Mr. Raki looked up at Nigel and smiled, pulling the boy into a hug. He whispered _thank you_ into Nigel’s ear before straightening up and demanding to see the principal.

* * *

Nigel’s Mamă arrived looking furious that she was called from work. She headed straight for Nigel, mouth stern, but was pulled aside by Mr. Raki. As they talked, Nigel watched in awe as Mamă’s glare softened. When Principal Crawford called the parents into his office, Mamă walked by Nigel and actually smiled.

Nigel and Adam sat on the right side of the office next to a ficus plant while Steve and Chris sat on the left. He felt a primal satisfaction at the large bloody bandage taped across Steve's nose. Nigel glared at the boys until they were cowering in their seats. Adam seemed oblivious, chattering to Nigel about missing classes and hoping that he could get the assignments before he got home.

When the door opened, Nigel and Adam froze. Mr. Zeller left the office with a sigh. He spotted Nigel and headed straight for him, looking very stern. He glanced at Steve and Chris behind him before he leaned in to whisper, “The next time you punch one of those little shits you do it off school grounds, OK? That way I’m not legally required to report you.”

Nigel nodded wide eyed as Mr. Zeller stood, dropping a hand on the boy’s shoulder and squeezing before he left.

Adam dug through his pocket and held up a torn Post It.

“There’s blood on it and toilet water,” Adam frowned as he extended the piece of paper to Nigel. The bigger boy smiled, plucking the note from Adam’s fingers.

Rubbing at a spot of blood so he could read the note, Nigel looked up. “The sunset on Mars is blue?”

Adam opened his mouth but stopped when the adults in the office began to yell.

“It’s ridiculous! That boy saved my son from assault!”

“He’s a thug! He could have killed Steven!”

“Your Steven put my son’s head in a toilet, you’ll be lucky if I don’t kill him!”

“That thing should be expelled!”

“If you expel Nigel, I’ll go to the news. You think punishing that boy for stopping the bullying of an autistic child is going to play well on the nightly news, Mr. Crawford? And when I'm done, I'll go to the police station and have charges brought against both your sons.”

“I won’t have that Romanian animal in school with our boys, Crawford!”

“My Nigel’s a good boy!”

Nigel looked at his sneakers; there was blood on them. His Mamă would probably cry when she cleaned them because they couldn’t afford new ones. He sank lower in his seat, scuffing his shoes on the linoleum floor.

Adam took Nigel’s hand in his. “It's true. You are a good boy.”

Nigel felt his arm go hot, he squeezed Adam’s hand and grinned when Adam squeezed back.

* * *

A four-week suspension, as it turned out, wasn’t such a bad deal. Nigel got to stay home, watch TV, and every afternoon Mr. Raki would show up at Nigel’s door with Adam. His friend would hug him, sticking a new space Post It on Nigel’s back, before opening his backpack and presenting Nigel with his lessons.

The boys would go to Nigel’s room and do their homework. If they finished early, Mr. Raki would take Nigel to the park. Some days, Adam would chase Nigel around the playground laughing as he ran after his friend. Nigel would always slow down just enough for Adam to catch him. It wasn’t fun if Adam didn’t.

After the Rakis left, Nigel would heat up food for himself and Mamă, excited for her to get home so he could tell her all about his day.

* * *

Nigel shifted on the inflatable mattress by Adam’s bed, wincing when it made a noise. He looked at the pattern of stars above Adam’s bed, scanning the glowing stickers for Polaris. It had taken Adam hours to put the pattern of stars above Nigel's bed, he came back five times before he was satisfied with the results. Then, he and Nigel had laid upon the bed, heads nestled together as Adam pointed out constellations.

He was learning to recognize the shapes of the stars, but Nigel’s favorites were Ursa Major and Minor, which resided right over his pillow. Ursa Minor, which housed the littler dipper and Polaris, was a constant in the sky, Adam explained. But the big dipper was always nearby, and if you followed Merak and Dubhe in the Big Dipper’s cup, the line would lead you to Polaris. He showed Nigel a video of the stars dancing around Polaris, the big dipper circling, watching over the constant in the sky.

Nigel had fallen asleep countless nights tracing the shapes of the big and little dipper on his ceiling. He’d started to think of himself as the larger constellation, circling Polaris, always near enough to keep his constant safe and admire its beauty. He thought of mentioning it to Adam, but he knew the boy would just frown and tell Nigel neither of them were stars. So, Nigel kept it to himself, smiling softly whenever his eyes found the familiar shapes in the night sky Adam had created for him.

Now, though, Nigel frowned.

“Hey!” Nigel whispered, tugging on Adam’s blanket.

There was light rustling and then a mop of messy curls and bleary blue eyes appeared over the edge of the bed. “Nigel, it’s time for me to go to sleep.”

“Your stars are different,” Nigel pointed up at the glowing stickers. “They’re not like my stars.”

“No. Your stars are the way the sky looked on your birthday, in Bucharest.” Nigel shook his head, he didn’t like the idea of having different stars than Adam. His friend gestured at the ceiling. “This is how the stars looked in New York when I was born.”

“You made the stars in my room for my birthday?”

“Of course.” Adam yawned. “Now please be quiet, it’s time to sleep.”

Nigel smiled to himself, Adam had made the stars just for him, maybe that was enough if they couldn’t have the same ones. Settling into the inflatable mattress, he searched the sky and found Polaris, just over the foot of Adam’s bed. Nearby, as always, Nigel finally picked out the big dipper.

“Nigel?”

“Be quiet, it’s time to sleep,” He smiled when this earned him a huff and Adam’s tangle of hair appeared over the side of the bed again.

“Is that bed comfortable?”

“Better than the one I had in Bucharest.”

“I don’t like it, it makes noise when you move.” A hand reached out from under the covers. “Come sleep up here.”

“What?” Nigel felt his heart stutter in his chest.

“Shhhh!” Adam looked to the door, but if Mr. Raki heard, he didn’t call for the boys to go to bed. Adam waved his hand again. “Come on! There’s room and I have to go to sleep soon.”

Nigel gaped at the hand. His heart felt like it was beating far too fast and yet not pumping blood through his body at all. He felt cold suddenly, as if he would be frozen forever staring open-mouthed at Adam Raki. The boy in question wiggled further out from the covers, grabbing Nigel’s arm and tugging hard.

Nigel was powerless to do anything but follow. It seemed he always was when Adam was concerned. He found himself moving up, and slipping beneath the weighted blanket, surprised at how warm the bed was from just Adam’s small body.

There was plenty of room, as Adam had said, and yet, it seemed there was no space at all between them.

“Are you comfortable?”

Nigel nodded. What else could he do?

“Good. Goodnight Nigel.”

“N-night.”

Adam lay flat on his back, his hand falling over Nigel’s. The older boy listened as Adam’s breath slowed and grew even, his eyes fixed on their stars as his hand gripped Adam’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Next Up:**  
High School - Adam gets a girlfriend, and Nigel reacts super calmly about that, y'all.


	4. High School - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The origin story of _Hello Gorgeous_ that no one asked for, and, oh yeah, Adam gets a girlfriend.

“OK, done. You want to check answers?” Nigel looked up from his homework when Adam didn’t respond. He had been sprawled on Adam’s bed for an hour, trying to carefully pick through his trigonometry problems, occasionally letting his eyes wander over to the purple Post It stuck to the corner of his notebook. _An asteroid called Vesta is home to the highest mountain measured by people. It is three times taller than Mount Everest._

Adam wasn’t at his customary spot at his desk. He was leaning in front of the mirror, poking at his ears. Adam had been having trouble with his hair; the longer curly cut had bothered him, the sensation of stray curls coiling into his ear becoming distracting and annoying to him. He’d taken to clutching at the hair by his ears when it became too much and Mr. Raki had suggested a shorter hair cut before Adam ripped the hair from his head. The resulting cut was shorter on the sides, his hair hinting at a curl at the ends instead of the coiling rings Nigel had come to know. It was still soft, though, and Nigel was relieved to find the barber hadn’t clipped Nigel’s favorite curls, swept along Adam’s forehead. 

“Adam, something wrong with your hair?”

“They’re big,” Adam moved his ears as he studied them in the mirror. “Melody was right.”

“What?”

“Melody Spanner said my new haircut made my ears look big, like Dumbo the Elephant? She was being hyperbolic, of course, but my ears are big.” Adam’s mouth tightened as he examined his face.

“Melody Spanner is a metal-mouthed little bitch and I’ll-”

Adam held up a hand. “You promised you wouldn’t beat up anyone unless they were physically violent with me.”

“I’m still calling her a bitch,” Nigel muttered.

“You promised you’d stop getting sent to the office.” Adam chided.

Nigel had. The older he got, the harder that seemed to be, however. Mr. Raki and Mamă had gone to the school in Nigel and Adam’s freshman year, asking if the boys could be kept on similar schedules. The school seemed to think it was for Adam’s benefit — Nigel was considered the Adam expert at school and if Adam got upset, more often than not it was Nigel the teachers looked to. Nigel always suspected that the real reason had been so Mamă would be sure he behaved. If Adam was in class with Nigel, he had to be good, even when he was mad. He couldn’t risk getting sent to the office and leaving Adam alone. He worried about it, what the boys on the lacrosse team would do if Adam was alone in a bathroom, what would happen if Adam got overstimulated in Mr. Price’s chemistry class and the man yelled at Adam to calm down. Thoughts like that kept Nigel’s smart mouth shut and his fists clenched, but lowered at his sides no matter what.

The real trouble had begun sophomore year. Nigel had made the football team — he refused to say _soccer_ like some idiot American — and with that came a lot of laddish teasing. Most of it was about the blue-eyed boy who watched the games with headphones on and waited for Nigel outside of practice, quietly reading a book. Nigel hadn’t hit anyone — he’d kept his word to Adam on that — but a few boys got held up against walls and threatened. American teachers apparently considered that assault too…

Still, after a few rough months of sitting in the principal’s office and lectures from Mamă, things had settled down. By junior year the whole school seemed to understand that Adam Raki was off-fucking-limits, and once the boys on Nigel’s team accepted that, he got along fine with them all. But now, Nigel was wondering if he’d get suspended for calling Melody Spanner an ugly brace-faced cunt.

“There’s nothing wrong with your ears.” Nigel said sullenly.

“They’re quite large, and they stick out.” Adam flexed them in his fingers again. “It’s alright, Dad always said it was better to be smart and ugly than ignorant and attractive.”

Nigel sat up; he could feel the anger welling in his chest. He always tried to keep it down near Adam; he knew it frightened him. “You’re not ugly.”

“Ugly is a subjective concept,” Adam said. “Melody finds me ugly. You can’t prove her wrong.”

“She’s fucking wrong!” Adam flinched at the tone and Nigel took a moment, careful to breathe like Mamă told him too and think before he spoke. “You’re beautiful, Adam, really.”

“I don’t find myself attractive.” Adam tilted his head. “My ears are large, my forehead is high, I’m very skinny.”

Nigel got off the bed and walked to Adam, turning the boy from the mirror. Slowly, he cupped Adam’s face and tilted it up, running his thumbs along soft skin.

“You’re-” Nigel closed his eyes. He didn’t have very many memories of his Tată, but he had one he thought about more and more as he grew older. Nigel had been six, and should have been in bed, but he was a stubborn child and wanted to stay up to see his Tată when he came home. So, he sat in his small room, leaning against the door waiting for the sound of Tată’s key in the front door. Nigel was blinking slowly and leaning heavily against the slightly ajar door when he finally heard the key. He was about to throw open the door and greet his Tată when he heard his mother running from the kitchen. Quietly, Nigel slipped from his bedroom and crawled into the hallway to watch as Tată grabbed Mamă into a hug and spun her around. Tată smiled and said _Hello Gorgeous_ in an exaggerated American accent. Nigel didn’t know what the words meant, but they made Mamă laugh and kiss him as he spun her around their small living room. Now, he knew what Tată was saying and smiled to himself as he looked at Adam. “Gorgeous. You’re gorgeous.”

Adam’s face reddened just slightly, but he didn’t pull away from Nigel’s hands. Licking his lips, he said “You don’t have to say that to make me feel better.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” Nigel traced the blush along Adam’s cheeks, stopping to press lightly at a freckle. “I won’t ever call you gorgeous unless you absolutely, beyond a fucking shadow of a doubt, are the most beautiful thing I can see.”

Adam smiled. “OK.”

Nigel felt himself leaning in, but stopped. It wasn’t fair to do that, not to Adam. Nigel had exactly one friend in the world and it was stupid to ruin it over the impulses in his head. He would stop and think, like Mamă begged him to, and he wouldn’t ruin this.

Stepping back, Nigel released Adam’s face, letting his thumb catch along the jaw. He cleared his throat and then forced himself to smile and wink. “Glad we settled that, gorgeous.”

Something faltered in Adam’s face, he opened his mouth, then shut it. “Nigel, do you- Dad said I should ask when I feel something, and I’m trying to be better about-”

“BOYS? It’s time to wrap up, dinner’s ready.” Both boys jumped and looked at the door.

“Come on, I’ll check your trigonometry after dinner.” Adam walked by Nigel like nothing had happened. And really, nothing had.

So why was his heart beating so fast?

* * *

“Why can’t we get a fucking bus?” Nigel was glaring at Nelson. He didn’t think the nerdy fuck should have been in charge of the Astronomy club; he didn’t even know how many moons Jupiter had.

“We don’t have the budget, Mr. Price said-”

“Fuck Mr. Price, he doesn’t even-” Adam twisted an Oreo apart and held out the half with the cream to Nigel. Grabbing the cookie, Nigel licked the cream off of it before handing it back to Adam. “He doesn’t even come to the meetings half the time! I say we fundraise.”

Nelson and Craig both raised their eyebrows, but neither was brave enough to say anything to Nigel’s face. “How?”

“You’re the fucking president, you figure it out.”

“We could always go the Hayden Planetarium,” Adam offered, crunching into his dry Oreos. “They’ll have footage of the meteor showers.”

“You said you wanted to see it in Raquette Lake.” Nigel chugged his milk. “They’re being difficult.”

“We don’t have to go with the club,” Adam held out another Oreo to lick. Nigel stared directly at Nelson as he did it, raising a brow. He smiled when the boy looked away, then handed the cookie back to Adam. “We could just ask my dad to take us.”

“Great plan, gorgeous.” Nigel smiled, turning back to Nelson and Craig. “Who wants to go with them, anyway?”

Nigel had never really cared for the Astronomy Club. The boys who ran it were no fun, and they didn’t know nearly as much as Adam did about space. Every meeting was just them reading the same NASA news that Adam had already told him and discussing seeing stars at the planetarium. It was boring and all they seemed to care about was how the club would look on college transcripts. But Adam wanted to stay in the club, so here they sat every Wednesday at lunch, wasting their damn time with Nelson and Craig. 

“H-hey, Adam?” Nigel turned to see a grinning girl in glasses tapping Adam on the shoulder. Adam flinched from the touch, but just as Nigel opened his mouth to tell her to fuck off, Adam smiled.

“Hi Beth!” Nigel didn’t like that smile. It wasn’t the smile Adam gave to strangers. It was the one that was supposed to be reserved for friends and family. Why was this bitch getting it?

“You want to walk to Spanish together?” Spanish and History were the only two classes that Adam and Nigel didn’t share. Nigel had tested out of his language requirement. Apparently, he could speak Romanian at a college level. And Adam’s AP History class had too many essays and tests for Nigel to hope to pass. Now, he wondered if he hadn’t made a mistake testing out on languages. Maybe he should have taken up Spanish.

Adam packed up his lunch and immediately followed after Beth. Nigel grabbed the boy’s arm as he passed.

“Nigel?”

“My fact?”

Adam’s mouth opened slightly in realization. He sat his backpack down and began to dig through it.

“Adam, we don’t want to be late.”

“It’ll take two seconds, Becky.” Nigel snarled and felt a mean little _zing_ of satisfaction when Beth backed up a step.

“Her name is Beth.” Adam said, pressing a blue Post It to Nigel’s chest before walking away with Beth by his side. Nigel read the fact — _55 Cancri e has a surface made up of graphite and diamond_ — and tried not to let his clenching hands rumple the paper.

* * *

Nigel had seen the fit coming in first period. There was a weird whistling noise in the heating unit. Adam complained, but nothing could be done to stop something that barely anyone else heard. His shoulders tensed, but he made it through English.

When Nigel found Adam after Spanish, his friend was tapping fairly regularly on his arms. Nigel tried to pull Adam aside, tried to sooth him, but the boy pulled away, wanted to go to biology before they were late. Adam had made it more than halfway through the class when someone started practicing the horn in the next classroom. The sound was muted, but erratic and dissonant — just enough to keep Adam from focusing.

He’d started rocking, and when a couple of students laughed, the real meltdown began. Adam yanked at his hair, yelling about his stupidity and smacking himself. Nigel scanned the room for the kids who laughed, he’d ask Adam later so he’d know who to beat the shit out of.

“I’ve got it,” A hand pressed on Nigel’s chest and he looked down in shock. All the teachers knew to let him handle it. It was practically school policy at this point. But it wasn’t Ms. Lounds telling him to back off, it was Beth.

He felt blind rage well in his chest. How fucking dare this little bitch think she could just-

Nigel shook his head; it wouldn’t help Adam if he murdered his little girlfriend in front of him.

“Adam, you’re being too loud.” Beth said calmly. She didn’t grab his arms, which was a mistake, but Nigel sort of hoped Adam clocked her one. “ADAM! YOU HAVE TO CALM DOWN!”

The yelling made Adam recoil, rocking harder. He flailed when she grabbed for him, narrowly missing her head with a balled fist.

Nigel grabbed Adam’s arm mid-swing, yanking his friend to his chest. Wrapping his arms around Adam tightly he gently pulled them to the ground. They rocked together, Adam still ranting about being a freak while Nigel cooed space facts in his ear.

Usually, when Adam finally came back to himself, he’d be mortified – especially if he had a fit in class. When he felt Adam try to turn, Nigel loosened his arms and let Adam burrow into his chest. As he stroked Adam’s hair and swore no one thought he was a freak, Nigel looked over Adam’s curls at Beth, who watched them with her mouth in a tight line.

He wanted to gloat. He wanted to crow about what a fucking failure she was. He wanted to press kisses into Adam’s hair and dare her to do something. But Adam needed Nigel at his best when he faltered. So, Nigel just sighed, refocusing on the boy in his arms.

“Adam, how about you and Nigel take a walk, come back in a few minutes?”

“I-I’m s-sorry Ms. Lounds.”

“I’m not mad, Adam, just…take a few minutes and come back, OK? Go to the office if you need to, I’ll have someone get you the notes.”

“I can take him,” Beth stepped forward, reaching out for Adam.

Fingers tightened on Nigel’s shoulders. Adam shook his head. “I want to go with Nigel.”

Carefully pulling Adam up from the floor, Nigel looped his arm around Adam’s back and kept his friend pressed to his side. He looked at Beth and tried not to grin too much. “Guess he wants me.”

Nigel led Adam out of the class without a backward glance.

* * *

“Are you boys done? You must hurry or will ruin surprise!” Mamă called from the kitchen. She had wanted to bake a traditional cake, as she had for Nigel’s birthday, but had happily taken the plain vanilla recipe from Mr. Raki when he worried over the list of ingredients.

“It’s not a surprise, Mamă!” Nigel reminded her. He and Mr. Raki had talked about it and decided that a surprise party would likely be more upsetting for Adam than anything else. Instead, they told him to go to the library or the planetarium and come home by six for a special birthday party and dinner. Adam had fretted a bit about Nigel not coming with him for the day, but had left without much of a fuss when he was assured Nigel was spending the night. They still pulled out the inflatable mattress every time Nigel stayed over, but Nigel had never slept anywhere but Adam’s bed in all the years they’d known each other.

“I don’t think it’s centered, yet. How about right here?” Mr. Raki tapped the floor by the foot of Adam’s bed. Nigel moved the projector, to where Mr. Raki was and nodded when the stars aligned properly. Building the projector had been easy, it was the programming that had nearly driven Nigel insane. He’d been working on it in free period, going down to the computer labs to program the star movements and the slow expansion of the universe. It had taken him the better part of four months, and Mr. Raki had even taken it to a friend at the Hayden Planetarium, who gave Nigel the _OK_. A large hand clapped on Nigel’s shoulder. “He’s going to love it, Nigel.”

Ducking his head, Nigel tried to keep his blush behind his shoulders. “Oh, cool.”

Mr. Raki looked at him for a moment, an odd smile on his face. Shaking his head, he reached out and ruffled Nigel’s hair. “Come on, kid, let’s see what a plain vanilla birthday cake looks like when your Mamă is making it.”

The cake’s icing was much fancier than the last few attempts Mr. Raki had made during the years. Nigel worried that the swirls and rosettes would be too thick and ruin the consistency for Adam, but his Mamă was so proud of it. He told her it was beautiful and assured her Adam would love it.

At six on the dot, Nigel heard Adam’s key in the door. He jumped up from the table, brushing hasty hands down the black dress shirt he was wearing. Mamă and Mr. Raki gave him the same small smile and shared a look, but Nigel didn’t have time to worry about what it meant; he had to go greet Adam.

“Oh my god, your apartment is so cute!”

Nigel froze in his tracks. He could feel the rage welling up inside him and for one moment he was terrified it would escape him.

“I don’t think apartments can be cute? I’m glad you like it, though.” Adam and Beth appeared in the kitchen door, holding hands. Nigel knew his hands were shaking when he felt Mamă grab one and hold it in hers. “This is my girlfriend, Beth. You know Nigel. This is my dad and Mamă.”

Beth stepped forward smiling. “It’s so nice to finally meet Adam’s parents.”

“That’s not my mom, my mother is dead,” Adam said matter-of-factly as he glanced around Nigel. “Did you make the cake, Mamă?”

“I’m Adam’s dad,” Mr. Raki stepped forward and shook Beth’s hand. “But that’s Ivona, Nigel’s Mamă.”

“Oh,” Beth’s mouth curled, it looked mean. “You bring your mom when you go out?”

Nigel opened his mouth but he felt Mamă squeeze his hand hard.

“Oh no, Mamă is a very good friend, I wanted her at my party.” Adam smiled at her.

“You’re so sweet, letting Nigel bring his mommy.” Beth pecked Adam on the cheek. Adam smiled and turned, kissing Beth softly.

Nigel yanked his hand from his mother, grabbing his jacket as he ran from the kitchen. He knew his face was red, and more alarmingly, he felt like he was going to cry.

“Nigel?” Closing his eyes, Nigel took a slow breath before he turned to Adam. The hand on his arm felt so good. “What are you doing?”

“I should go. You should celebrate with your girlfriend.” He sounded like a shitty child; he knew he did. He had no right to be so angry.

“I wanted to celebrate with you too.” Adam looked confused. “I wanted you to talk to Beth, you’re always too busy in school. And…You were going to spend the night, remember?”

Beth walked up to Adam, running her hands over his shoulders. To Nigel’s abject horror, Adam didn’t flinch away from the touch. “Adam, it’s time for dinner.”

Nigel yanked his arm from Adam’s grip. “Spend the night with your fucking girlfriend.”

“NIGEL!”

“Nigel, come here.”

He fled, like the coward he was. He didn’t listen to Mamă’s frantic calls or Mr. Raki’s stern tone. Adam said nothing, which might have been worst of all. Fleeing down the stairs, he ran toward the subway and home, swiping at the tears on his face.

When he arrived home, he ran for his room and locked the door. Rummaging through his notebook, he found a piece of orange scrap paper with big loopy writing. He dialed the number.

“Hi, Katie? It’s Nigel.” He felt sick. “My trip to Raquette Lake was cancelled, you still want to see a movie next weekend?” 

* * *

Nigel apologized to Mr. Raki and his Mamă. He told them he was sorry for losing his temper and hoped they would forgive him for the bad language and behavior. Mamă looked at him with her sad, disappointed eyes before giving him a hug. Mr. Raki had sighed, but patted him on the shoulder and told him everyone had bad days.

That had been the easy part.

The worst part was apologizing to Adam. His best friend had hugged him and smiled, immediately relieved that Nigel wasn’t terribly mad at him. It made Nigel feel like a grade-A shit when Adam scuttled to his room and came running back with six days’ worth of space facts to stick to him. He felt worse when Adam took his hand and dragged him back to his room to see the universe expansion projection.

Adam had moved it, because it wasn’t quite centered properly, but he hugged Nigel and started talking all about the stars and how the universe would eventually go dark.

“The death of everything?” Nigel didn’t like the idea of the stars blinking out of existence. They were constant in his mind, like Adam.

“Yes, but don’t worry, we’ll both be dead long before that happens.”

Nigel snorted wrapping an arm around Adam. “You sure know how to soften the blow, gorgeous.”

Adam leaned back into Nigel’s arm, eyes on the galaxies whirling by. “This is my favorite birthday present, thank you.”

“No big deal.” Nigel felt funny, like his whole body was charged.

“It is.” Adam turned, eyes flicking over Nigel’s star-covered face. “Beth and I really enjoyed watching it. She couldn’t believe you’d done it.”

Nigel dropped his arm, stepping away from Adam to slump to the floor. “Glad she liked it.”

“You will apologize to her, won’t you? You were very mean and she was upset. I told her you’re temperamental, but you should still say you’re sorry.” Adam settled on the floor next to Nigel, leaning into his side. He wondered if Adam and Beth had sat like this, under the stars he had designed just for Adam.

“Adam, I-” Nigel closed his eyes and sighed. “I will, if you want me to.”

“I want you to mean it,” Adam said, his head lolling on Nigel’s shoulder. “But I suppose a perfunctory apology is better than no apology.” 

They sat in silence, the universe spinning by them. Even with Adam pressed so tight against him, Nigel felt like he was losing his grip.

“I know you don’t like her,” Adam said softly. “Maybe you will? She’s very pretty, and smart. She’s a good kisser too. She’s probably my third favorite person.”

“Right behind Stephen Hawkins and Carl Sagan, is she?”

“You’re teasing me.” Adam smiled and nudged Nigel’s ribs. “You like me. If you like me you have to like Beth.”

“I guess I will.” Nigel let his arm wrap back around Adam, gripping him just a little tighter than was strictly necessary.

* * *

Nigel tried not to glare at his lunch as he tried to tune out Beth’s voice. She was talking about fixing Adam’s hair and getting him cooler clothes, all of which Adam would absolutely hate. They were going to go shopping this weekend. Adam had begun tapping his fingers on the table and Nigel found himself beating out the rhythm too. Adam caught the movement and smiled.

Reaching into his lunch box, Adam pulled out a pack of Oreos, Nigel held out his hand, but Adam handed the cookie to Beth. Something sour pooled in the back of Nigel’s mouth as he watched Beth twist open the cookie, lick off the cream and hand them back to Adam.

Snatching his hand back, Nigel scowled at the table, his stomach in knots. He let his hand ball into a fist next to his sandwich. His nails dug into his flesh, as he tried to count his breaths — ten slow seconds in through his mouth and ten slow seconds out through his nose. He absolutely would not hit a girl; Mamă would never forgive him.

Soft fingers brushed over Nigel’s. A purple Post It appeared on his hand.

_Because the Moon has no atmosphere, the footprints of the Apollo astronauts will be on the surface of the Moon for millions of years._

“How come I don’t get one of those?” Beth tugged at Adam’s sweater.

“Do you want space facts?”

Beth smiled, pulling Adam in for a small peck. “I think you should give your girlfriend more notes than Nigel.”

“About space?”

“Or about how pretty I am, how smart, how much you like me…”

Nigel could feel the vein throbbing in his neck. He stayed as still as possible until a weight fell into his lap.

“Hey there.” Nigel smiled up at Katie. They spent a very interesting night in the back of a movie theater. Nigel was going to tell Adam about it, but Adam had started talking about Beth and suddenly Nigel didn’t feel like talking.

Still, Katie’s bright smile and blue eyes were almost enough to make him forget about Adam Raki and his hell-bitch girlfriend. Nigel reached up and tugged on one of Katie’s brown curls. “Miss me, gorgeous?”

Katie leaned down, rubbing her ass into Nigel’s crotch. “Parts of you.”

Nigel grinned and lifted his chin to kiss her. It was sloppy and wet, but Katie didn’t seem to mind and Nigel sure as hell didn’t. He ran his hands along Katie’s thighs until Ms. Lounds came over and told them both to knock it off before she sent them to the office.

“See you later,” Katie purred, running a hand along Nigel’s chest as she walked away.

“Gross.” Beth stood and held out her hand. “Come on Adam, we’ll be late.”

“One moment.”

Nigel looked at Adam’s face, he seemed upset. He was tapping his fingers along his thighs as he moved around the table to stand over Nigel. There was a mean part of him that hoped Adam was jealous, that he’d jump in Nigel’s lap and kiss him until he couldn’t remember Katie Stratford’s name.

But Adam just stood in front of him, eyes on his feet. “You called her gorgeous.”

“Adam, look-”

“You think she’s gorgeous?”

“I- you’re both gorgeous.”

“Oh.” Adam’s eyes flicked up and the gaze cracked Nigel’s chest open. “I thought you just called me that.”

Nigel could see Beth eyeing them from the cafeteria doors. He leaned forward. “Adam, if you don’t want me to call her that I won’t. It’ll just be your name, OK gorgeous?”

A small smile curled at the corners of Adam’s mouth. “Thank you.”

Adam turned to leave, but Nigel grabbed his hand. “You gotta do something for me in return.”

“What?”

“Write Beth all the notes you want, tell her how fucking pretty she is or how good she kisses, I don’t care.” Nigel looked down. He could feel the blush creeping up his cheeks so he addressed the rest to Adam’s shoes. “But no space facts. Those are for me, OK?”

“OK.”

Nigel looked up, he was surprised when he met Adam’s eyes. “Thanks, gorgeous.”

“See you tonight after soccer practice?”

“Sure. I’ll be the one in the shorts.”

Adam ran off with a smile. Nigel carefully peeled the Post It from his hand and stored it in his English binder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Next Up:**  
Nigel's life goes from bad to worse.


	5. High School - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nigel and Adam's relationship is tested. Nigel gets life changing news.

“Can you stay tonight?” Adam’s head fell on Nigel’s shoulder. They lay on his bed, watching the stars Nigel had programmed for Adam expand across the bedroom.

“Probably shouldn’t, try outs are in the morning and I’ve got to be there to scare all the freshmen.” The coach had asked Nigel to be team captain for his senior year, but Nigel had refused. The past few months had been hard for him. He’d taken to spending time alone, moping around the park and bumming cigarettes off of older boys.

He’d rather be with Adam, of course, but spending time with his best friend was becoming harder and harder to do. Beth always dropped by. She’d just show up and change the plans or make sure she sat between Nigel and Adam at dinner or at the movies. She’d make shitty little comments about Nigel’s clothes or his accent — _oh it’s so CUTE how you say that word _and_ oh look your shirt has holes in it how…punk._ Adam never noticed; he wouldn’t. Adam would take Beth’s little comment at face value. Nigel never said anything. He’d learned to ignore stupid comments and nasty looks; Adam had helped him with that over the years. But what really hurt him, what kept him up at night, was how happy Adam looked whenever Beth showed up.

It was worse in the summer. Nigel had been dreaming of spending lazy days in Adam’s room or bumming around the Hayden Planetarium. Instead, on the days when Beth didn’t have them scheduled, Adam would ask if she could come along. He knew Nigel would like her, if he’d just stop being so mean.

Sleepovers were his last hope. He didn’t think Mr. Raki would let Beth spend the night, and that meant he could at least have Adam, his Adam, to himself. He could listen to the soft breathing as Adam slept, ramrod straight but peaceful, with his hand on top of Nigel’s. He could bury his face in his extra pillow when he was feeling low, and pull the scent of Adam’s shampoo into his lungs.

But now, in the darkness, under the stars they made for themselves, Beth still found her way to them. Nigel listened to Adam talk about kissing. He endured Adam’s thoughts on sexual gratification — how Beth’s hand wasn’t as good at masturbation, but it was exciting to feel it. Nigel would curl in on himself, sulking silently until Adam apologized for talking too much and fell silent beside him. Nigel hated himself for that, hated that he couldn’t tell Adam to talk about anything and everything — just not fucking Beth. He was afraid to. If he yelled, if he demanded Adam make a choice, he wasn’t sure anymore that he’d win.

“You never stay over anymore.” Nigel could feel Adam’s head turn, but he kept his eyes fixed on Polaris. 

“You want to see me more, dump Betty.”

“You know her name is Beth.” Adam’s voice tightened. That annoyed tone he heard more and more from his friend. “I’ve asked you to be nice to her. She’s important to me.”

“I fucking know.” Sitting up, Nigel ran his hands through his hair. “You ever tell her to not make fun of my fucking accent? Or am I the only one who needs a lecture?”

“She likes the way you talk, like I do.”

“No, not like you.” Nigel turned when he felt a hand between his shoulders. He sneered. “_Oh isn’t that cute, you lisp a little when you say your consonants!_”

“It is cute, I love your voice.”

“SHE DOESN’T-” Adam was off the bed and standing, making Nigel feel like the prize fucking bastard he was. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m a shit, OK? I…I’ll try to be better. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Will I see you this weekend? Sleepover Saturday?”

“Is your girlfriend busy Saturday?”

“Beth has to go home by 10.”

“Oh well, let me fucking count my lucky stars she takes her hand off your dick long enough for you to remember I exist.” Nigel stood, he could feel his blush and hoped the dark room covered it.

“Nigel, why are you-”

“I’m not the one who’s always on a date, Adam.” Nigel snarled, “You make time for what you want to make time for.”

“You’re dating Katie.” Adam frowned. Nigel grimaced. Katie liked Nigel’s accent and his tongue. What they did wasn’t exactly dating so much as blowing off steam. She called him _killer_ and he had a distinct feeling she only really liked him because every time he came around her house, her rich parents had minor heart attacks.

“Well, then I guess we’re both going to have to get used to a new schedule.” Nigel slung his backpack over his shoulder and stomped out of the apartment, letting the door bang behind him. Adam wouldn’t chase after him to work out the fight. He never did anymore.

* * *

It was the second week of his senior year when Nigel came home late after sneaking out of Katie’s bedroom to find Mamă in a heap on the floor. The paramedics had let him ride to the hospital with her and he spent the night coiled in a stiff chair by her bed, counting the beeps of her heart, eyes glued to the monitor. If he could just stay awake and count every beep, maybe she’d be fine.

He and Mamă both listened solemnly as the cardiologist explained Atrial fibrillation. She'd need an internal defibrilator installed, the sooner the better, and Nigel gritted his teeth at the thought of his Mamă being cut open. The doctors assured them it was a routine procedure, that she'd barely notice the lump of machinery on her chest. Nigel held his Mamă as she cried and promising she wouldn’t have to work so much — he could find a job. She had cried more then, telling him she would be fine if she took the pills the doctor told her about and didn’t make brânzoaică every weekend.

Nigel thought about calling Adam, but he was afraid Beth would come to the hospital with him. Instead, he called his soccer coach and quit the team. It was stupid anyway; no one in America gave a shit about real football. Adam texted, and when Nigel ignored the texts, he began calling. Nigel turned off his phone, terrified he'd fall to pieces if he heard Adam's voice. He couldn't do that in front of Mamă, she had just stopped crying and needed him to be strong.

On the fifth day of his mother’s hospital stay, Mr. Raki knocked on the door. He brought flowers for Mamă, laying them on the table by her bed. He reached out and laid a hand on Mamă’s arm, squeezing softly.

“Ivona, thank god you’re alright.” Mr. Raki smiled, tugging at the sleeve of Mamă’s hospital gown. “Are you warm enough? I can get the nurse to bring you another blanket.”

Mamă nodded, and Mr. Raki left, returning seconds later with a blanket. Nigel frowned at his feet as Mr. Raki wrapped the blanket around Mamă, he should have thought to do that. Before he could look up, Nigel was yanked into a tight hug.

“Why didn’t you call, Nigel?” When Nigel clenched his jaw, Mr. Raki didn’t say anything, just rubbed his back. He fought as long as he could, but soon, Nigel began to shake and he could hear the tears hitting Mr. Raki’s shoulder as he gasped for air. He tried to push away, to hide his face, but Mr. Raki wouldn’t let go. He didn’t soothe Nigel the way he did Adam, but he held him through the worst of the sobbing. As Nigel found control of his breath again, Mr. Raki let go. He smiled, wiping a few tears from Nigel’s face and pulled him back into a hug. “You call me, next time, OK?”

Nigel didn’t want to think about a next time. He didn’t want to think about any of it. “I-is Adam mad?”

“He’s worried. He wanted to come, but the noises and smells…” Mr. Raki looked over his shoulder at Mamă. “He’s waiting for you at home.”

“Is Beth there?”

“Your home, Nigel.” Mr. Raki ruffled his hair. “He cancelled his date when Coach Lester told him you’d called.” 

They stayed at the hospital for another half hour, before Mr. Raki took Nigel home, promising Mamă he’d give the boy a decent dinner. Mr. Raki bought Nigel some ramen on the way home. Nigel slurped the noodles while Mr. Raki watched him.

“Nigel?” 

Nigel flicked his bangs out of his face, noodles still dangling from his mouth.

“I want you to know that, even if…no matter what, you can always call me, OK?”

Nigel nodded and slurped up his noodles.

* * *

Adam was sitting at Nigel’s desk, quietly writing in his notebook when Nigel entered his bedroom. Mr. Raki had dropped him off and told him he’d pick Adam up whenever he called.

On Nigel’s bed was a stack of college brochures and five Post It notes.

“Hey.”

Adam turned from the desk and smiled wide and bright. Nigel always thought his eyes looked bluer when he smiled.

“You’re finally home! How’s Mamă?”

“She’s…” Nigel dropped his head. He honestly wasn’t sure how to finish the sentence. “She’s coming home tomorrow.”

“Good. We should make dinner for her, maybe chicken and broccoli?”

Nigel smiled. “Yeah, sure.”

“I know you’re probably tired, but I brought you your assignments, and a few brochures. These are the schools I’m applying to with Beth and I thought you could apply too. Do you know where Katie’s going? Maybe she could apply with us as well?”

Nigel knocked the brochures from his bed and flopped on the mattress. He focused on Polaris above his head. “I don’t need those.”

He could hear Adam rise from the chair and knew instinctively that the boy was picking up the brochures and stacking them on the desk. “You have to start applying, Nigel.”

Nigel laughed. “I was worried about money for college, you know. But I guess I don’t have to now.”

“Did you get a loan?” Adam sat on the bed, hands drumming on his thighs. Nigel started tapping the rhythm on his stomach. “Coach Lester said you quit the team, so I don’t think you qualify for sports scholarships.”

“I don’t qualify for anything, Adam,” Nigel wanted to curl into a ball and cry. “I’m just going to get a job here.”

“Why? You’re smart, I bet you could get into NYU. Then you and Beth and I could-”

“I’M NOT FUCKING GOING!”

“I know you don’t like her.” Adam’s voice was so small, so hurt. Nigel reached out his hand and smiled when lithe fingers threaded with his. “You don’t have to spend time with her. We could just hang out alone, like now. I-I've missed you so much. I barely saw you all summer...if you want we could share a dorm and Beth wouldn't be allowed-”

“Mamă can’t work anymore, not like she did.” Nigel squeezed Adam’s hand. “She’s got this thing, _uh_, A-fib?”

“Atrial fibrillation? Oh, that significantly increases her chance of stroke or heart failure because the atria falls out of coordination with the ventricles. The timing of the heartbeat is off, meaning blood isn’t pumped at a steady rate and you can feel heart palpitations- Nigel?”

Nigel was biting his lips as hard as he could, shaking with the force of trying to keep himself still. He’d broken his Mamă’s heart so many times and now there was nothing he could do to fix it. Nigel screwed his eyes shut and prayed that he wouldn’t cry for a third time in 24 hours. He felt the bed dip and chanced opening his eyes. Adam was lying beside him, hand hovering indecisively before he brought it down to stroke Nigel’s side.

“Oh, I shouldn’t have said that. You know all that and it’s making you upset.” Adam’s hands paused again, and then Nigel felt himself being tugged. He let Adam gather him into his arms. He inhaled the scent of Adam’s skin, filling his nostrils and willing himself to stay in Adam’s arms as long as he could. “Many people live for decades with the condition. You can treat it with-”

Adam listed five more medications and one more treatment than the doctor had mentioned. Nigel thought about asking him what treatment was best — if anyone would know it would be his gorgeous friend. But he didn’t have the energy. Instead, Nigel listened to the steady drone of Adam’s voice, let it wash over him and until he was surrounded by Adam. Nothing bad could happen to him with Adam Raki holding him.

After a few moments, Nigel realized where they were, lying on Nigel’s bed like they were still kids, gazing up at glowing stars on the ceiling. They hadn’t had a sleepover in ages and Nigel thought about how much he missed the smell of Adam on his sheets. “Can- can you stay tonight?”

“Yes. I brought my weighted blanket in case you asked me to.” Adam pulled back slightly. “Nigel, why don’t you ever ask me to anymore?”

“I don’t know — everything’s different.”

“It doesn’t have to be, unless…do you not want to be friends? Is that why you didn’t tell me about Mamă?” Adam’s whole body went tense beneath Nigel’s fingers. “I never asked. I just assumed you also wanted to stay best friends. I-if you d-don’t-”

Nigel wrapped his arms tightly around Adam, terrified he’d pull back and leave.

“You’re my best friend,” He whispered. “You’re my…you’re always my best, Adam.”

“Oh, good, but you never want to-”

“I’m just- I-” _I love you. I hate that you’re with that stupid girl. I hate that I’m with anyone but you just to prove it doesn’t matter. I hate that Mamă is so sick and that all I wanted to do was call you. I hate how weak I feel when you’re not around me_. Nigel choked on the words, a sob welling up again.

“It’s too much?” Adam asked. “Are you overstimulated?”

Adam shifted, moving until he had Nigel pulled flat to his chest in a tight grip. A soft hand stroked through Nigel’s hair, while Adam slowly counted his deep breaths. Nigel began breathing with Adam, slowly feeling calmer in the boy’s arms. Though Nigel was relaxing, Adam never loosened his grip.

“Find your breath, it’ll be OK.” An echo of what Mr. Raki murmured to Adam over the years.

“Thanks, gorgeous.”

“Do you want me to keep going?”

“Please.” Nigel let himself melt in Adam’s arms, trying not to think about Adam leaving for college or Mamă getting sicker, only focusing on the love of his life tracing soft fingers through his hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Next Up:**  
Two break ups, a hook up, and a lie...


	6. High School - Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nigel and Adam take a step forward, followed by two steps back...

Nigel stretched his neck, letting the bones crack. If he didn’t pull the tension out, somehow he was going to dump a pot of coffee on the assholes at table seven. He signaled the manager and walked out of the kitchen. The wind tunneling down the alley was hell, but he would be damned if he took his break in a noisy fucking kitchen.

He worked most nights and weekends now. He hated the crowds at the Times Square TGI Fridays, but the tips weren’t bad and Mamă could go down to part time with his income. She had gotten paler and her hands were always freezing to the touch. Nigel would hold them when they sat on the sofa together watching TV, trying to force his warmth into her system.

Katie had dumped him within a week. It wasn’t a big loss; he had a feeling it had been coming for weeks. His grades had tanked, probably because he could barely keep his eyes open during class, but it wasn’t like he was going to college anyway – he just needed to graduate to make Mamă happy.

The one bright spot in his day was a nightly phone call at 9pm from Adam. Nigel tried to schedule his break for that time every night, but if he couldn’t, he’d have a long rambling voice mail to look forward to as he made his way home. Adam would talk about his day, about the latest NASA news, or about making plans to spend the night when Nigel didn’t have to work. He never brought up Beth anymore, and though she was still around Adam during school hours, Nigel was grateful for the break.

He still got his Post It every day in first period with Adam and got to hear his voice every night. It wasn’t a bad existence.

Nigel leaned against a dumpster and lit a cigarette – sucking in the smoke to ignore the smell of day-old grease and rotted produce. He smiled when his phone rang.

“Hello, gorgeous.” He exhaled a plume of smoke and huddled against the cold. He looked up, but the lights of the city made the sky above him black. Still, he knew Polaris was somewhere above him, hovering as sure and as bright as it always was.

“Are you smoking?”

“My day’s been fine, Adam. How are you?”

“I’ve told you repeatedly smoking is bad for you and it makes you smell terrible.”

Nigel sighed. “Adam, I’m standing next to a dumpster, I’m gonna smell terrible no matter what.”

“Cigarettes have been linked to-”

“Adam?”

“Yes?”

“I’ve got 10 minutes, can we just agree that I’m killing myself and being unreasonable and move the fuck on?”

There was a pause and Nigel smiled, picturing Adam’s little frown as he weighed his options. “I’m going to ask you to quit when I sleep over on Tuesday.”

“I don’t fucking doubt it,” Nigel shivered against the wind. “Did the probe land?”

“YES! I downloaded the footage from the NASA control room. There should be pictures soon of InSight as well — maybe we can watch on Tuesday?”

“Yeah, sounds good.” Nigel took another drag of his cigarette; his lips felt numb, but the nicotine gave him a little zing of enjoyment. “You hear from any more colleges?”

There was a long pause, so long Nigel pulled the phone from his ear to check they were still connected. He heard a funny little breath and his heart clenched slightly. “Adam?”

“I heard from Berkeley.” There was another funny breath. “They offered me a scholarship.”

“The NASA one?” Nigel’s heart was in his throat.

“No, Institute of Electrical and Electronics Engineers.”

“Adam, that’s fucking fantastic!” Nigel wanted to throw up. Adam would be on the opposite coast. If he was lucky he’d see him at Christmas.

“I don’t- Beth is waitlisted there.” Adam huffed again. “If I go to NYU I can-”

“Adam. You have to go.” Nigel stomped on his cigarette and sighed.

“Dad wants me to go too.” Nigel could picture Adam’s hands tapping. His own fingers beat out the rhythm he knew so well. “But it’s so far and I-”

“You’ll learn a new routine. You’ve done it before. You weren’t used to waiting for me outside of practice, but you got used to it. You weren’t used to calling me during my break every night, but you do n-”

“NIGEL! COME ON MAN! WE GOT TABLES WAITING!”

“TWO FUCKING SECONDS, DAVID!” Nigel ran his hand through his hair. “Don’t fucking turn it down yet, OK? Just…let’s talk about it Tuesday. I gotta go.”

“Bye Nigel.”

“Bye gorgeous.” Nigel hung up and pocketed his phone. He felt sick to his stomach at the thought of losing Adam, but he slapped on a smile and got ready to wink and flirt with the table of older women who had just sat in his section.

* * *

When Adam didn’t arrive promptly at six, Nigel knew there was a problem. He tried Adam’s cell, but when he didn’t get an answer, he began to pace. Cold hands landed on Nigel’s arm.

“Go,” Mamă said with a small smile. “I’m fine.”

Nigel hesitated for a moment before grabbing his jacket and rushing for the subway. He texted Adam a few more times, but each ignored message made him tap his fingers with a bit more urgency. The trains ran slower than usual and he just wanted to get out of the damn tubes and get to Adam’s place.

He heard the screaming from the hallway and picked up his pace. Mr. Raki answered on the third knock.

“I’m sorry, I-” The man seemed to deflate with relief when he recognized Nigel. “Thank god.”

Adam was in his room, rocking and yelling about lies. Nigel could see his fist starting to ball and lunged, grabbing it before Adam could hit himself with it. He wrapped himself around Adam’s back and held his friend as tightly as he could. They rocked together, Nigel murmuring space facts and breathing deeply. 

Mr. Raki came in looking tired. When Nigel raised an eyebrow, he simply said, “Beth.”

Nigel had been hoping for this for so long, and yet he hated it. He hated hearing the choked breaths and sobs as Adam struggled to get himself together. He hated how his friend’s body quaked as it moved. Nigel could feel Adam’s misery and found no joy in it.

“Shhhhhh, gorgeous. Shhhhh.”

“S-she said we s-should break up.” Adam managed, still shaking. “W-when I t-told her about Berkeley. I’m not going! I won’t go!”

Nigel pressed his lips to the base of Adam’s skull. “You go to NYU, there’s no guarantee she won’t break up with you, Adam. Then you’ll be stuck in a program that you don’t even like.”

“S-she said she l-loved me.” Adam pulled against Nigel, but his breathing was getting deeper. “She lied.”

“Then this is good, isn’t it?”

That stopped Adam. He took a shuddering breath and turned in Nigel’s arms. Nigel released Adam’s hands but kept his arms looped around Adam’s chest. “You don’t want to be with a liar, ‘specially one that gives lousy fucking hand jobs.”

Nigel tensed when he remembered Mr. Raki still in the room, but the older man merely huffed a laugh. Adam blinked at Nigel, before his lip curled into a small smile. “They weren’t very good.”

“See? There’s a whole world of better cock tugging out there and now you get to experience it!” Adam shook slightly in Nigel’s arms, but this time he was laughing.

“Thank you for the perspective, Nigel,” said Mr. Raki dryly.

“You, OK?” Nigel nudged Adam softly.

“She said she loved me. We w-were going to go to college and stay together.” Adam’s fingers were tapping on Nigel’s thighs. “I’ll be alone at Berkeley, what if-”

“What if it’s great?” Nigel asked. “What if you get a degree and an offer from NASA? That’s worth losing shitty hand jobs and a fucking girl who lied to you, right?”

“If I get overstimulated-”

“You call me or your dad.” Nigel squeezed Adam a little tighter. “They know you think differently, Adam, it’s why they want you. They’re not going to kick you out.”

Adam nodded, then frowned. “I was supposed to go to your house tonight.”

“Looks like I came to you, gorgeous.”

Adam’s fingers were still on Nigel’s thighs. “You always do, when I need you.”

* * *

Nigel woke to fingers tracing the stubble on his jaw. He blinked, realizing the warm weight in his arms was wiggling. He and Adam had eaten dinner with Mr. Raki and come back to the bedroom. Adam had been exhausted, so Nigel suggested skipping the NASA footage and just crawling into bed. They inflated the mattress on the floor, as was their custom, before Nigel crawled into Adam’s bed beside him. Though Adam had changed into his pajamas, Nigel hadn’t brought anything with him. He settled on his t-shirt and boxers but blushed furiously when he noticed Adam watching him undress.

Nigel had pulled his friend to his chest and listened as Adam chattered about his nerves going to a school so far away. He must have fallen asleep holding Adam. It seemed odd that the boy had allowed himself to remain in Nigel’s arms the whole of the night.

“Adam?” Nigel shifted away, conscious that his morning wood was perilously close to Adam’s thigh. He was warm, so warm with Adam’s body heating the scant inches between them.

“I’m going to miss you if I go,” Adam’s fingers brushed along Nigel’s jaw. “I missed you so much when I was with Beth.”

Nigel’s fingers flexed. He told himself to breathe, to not do anything stupid. “You’ll never lose me. I- no matter where you are if you need me-”

“I know.” Adam’s eyes settled for a moment on Nigel’s before dropping to his mouth. “Do you — Nigel, have you ever thought about kissing me?”

Nigel’s whole body ran cold then hot again. His skin seemed to sizzle. “Adam, I-”

“I’ve thought about kissing you, a lot. You were with Katie, though, and I was with Beth, so I didn’t ask. But, I-” Adam’s eyes focused on his hand, still running along the line of Nigel’s jaw. “I thought I could ask now.”

Nigel opened his mouth, then closed it. He knew his hands were shaking, knew Adam could feel them on his back.

“Oh, you’re uncomfortable,” Adam began to pull away. Nigel locked his grip keeping Adam exactly where he was. “It’s ok if you don’t feel the same. I probably shouldn’t ha-”

Nigel lunged, crushing his mouth to Adam’s. He realized belatedly that their noses were smushed together, and that the angle was all wrong, but before he could pull back, Adam tilted his head and the whole world slotted into place. Adam’s hands ran along Nigel’s chest, one snaking up the side of his neck, thumbing his throbbing pulse. Nigel made a low noise, sucking on Adam’s lower lip as he pulled them closer together. Adam rolled forward and Nigel felt something poke at his hip.

With a careful hand, Nigel traced the line of Adam’s hip through his pajama pants before palming his friend’s erection. Adam gasped, his breath bathing across Nigel’s face as he pushed into Nigel’s hand. Stilling, Nigel let Adam rub himself along Nigel’s fingers, setting his own pace and friction. He watched as a little line formed between Adam’s brows. Nigel leaned up to kiss it, smiling when Adam met his eyes.

“You want more, gorgeous?”

Adam nodded, pushing at Nigel until he was flat on his back in the bed. Adam crawled over him, slotting his hips between Nigel’s legs. Adam rolled his hips, their cocks rubbing together on the slow thrust. Nigel groaned low, huffing as he watched his darling. Adam’s eyes were half-lidded, his mouth slightly open, kiss-swollen lips panting as he moved.

Nigel couldn’t take it, he reached up and tangled a hand in the short hairs at Adam’s nape, drawing the boy down for another kiss. Adam made soft, needy little noises into Nigel’s mouth, his rhythm growing erratic as he thrust. Nigel pushed on Adam’s chest, smiling when the boy froze, blinking at him.

“Do you want to stop?” Adam sounded so breathless, Nigel wondered if he realized how beautiful and blue his eyes looked in the early morning light.

“Lay back,” Nigel’s voice was rough, but he smiled when Adam cocked his head. “Lay back for me, Adam.”

Moving on shaking legs, Adam crawled off Nigel to settle flat on his back. After a few breaths, Nigel twisted to lean over Adam, soft fingers drawing along his sides and hooking into the boy’s pajama pants. He tugged softly, looking up Adam’s belly to the stormy blue eyes watching him. “OK?”

Adam lifted his hips and helped Nigel pull the pants from his legs. His erection stood ruddy and weeping over his stomach. Nigel remembered the few times he and Katie had done this, and how fucking good it had felt. He hoped he would get it right, that Adam would like it.

Hovering over Adam’s hips, Nigel gently lapped at the base of Adam’s erection. Adam made a high pitched keen and both boys stilled immediately – listening for any evidence that Mr. Raki had overheard them. After a few moments, Nigel started to breathe again, he looked at Adam, who smiled. “That felt really good, I won’t yell next time. But don’t worry, if dad did hear me, I could just tell him I was masturbating.”

Nigel closed his eyes, but he couldn’t stop the small laugh shaking his body. When he looked up again, Adam was smiling too, eyes bright. “You think he’d buy you were jerking off with me in the room?”

“You’re a very sound sleeper,” Adam said, his voice matter-of-fact. “Though he would probably tell me that was rude.” 

They dissolved into giggles again. Nigel pressing his face to Adam’s hip, he loved the way Adam’s laughter shook his stomach. After a few minutes, they calmed and Nigel eyed Adam’s erection again.

Running his finger lightly along a vein, Nigel glanced up just in time to see Adam’s eyes flutter closed. “You want to try again?”

Adam’s eyes opened slightly, watching as Nigel’s fingertip rubbed lazy circles around the tip of his cock. “Yes.”

“Try to be quiet, darling,” Nigel leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the side of Adam’s shaft, chaste and sweet. Adam’s hand flew to his mouth, muffling a groan. Nigel wished he could hear Adam scream and moan, but he’d rather not hear Mr. Raki’s opinion on that. “That’s it, gorgeous.”

Nigel dipped his head and licked up Adam’s shaft, thrilling when Adam’s hips stuttered and the boy made another muffled noise. Carefully, he took the head of Adam’s cock in his mouth and sucked. Adam made another ungodly noise and Nigel glanced up to see dark blue eyes watching him intently. Trying to take a little more, Nigel bobbed his head. He alternated between licks and sucks, mouthing at Adam’s balls when he needed to catch his breath. It didn’t take long for Adam to begin shaking. Nigel licked his way back to the weeping tip of Adam’s cock, sucking softly as he cupped Adam’s balls.

Adam came with a whimper, his hips stuttering and his body quaking. Nigel registered that come was in fact exactly as bitter as Katie had always complained it was, but he swallowed anyway, not willing to risk Adam thinking he didn’t love every second of it.

When a shaking hand reached for Nigel, he followed it up Adam’s body willingly. Adam kissed him, his hands still trembling as they traced over Nigel’s cheeks. Pulling back Adam made a face. “I don’t taste good.”

“You do to me,” Nigel whispered, rubbing his cock against Adam’s hip.

“Is it OK if I don’t kiss you again?” Adam frowned slightly, the look he wore when he was afraid he’d said something wrong. “Until you brush your teeth?”

“Whatever you want, gorgeous.” Nigel felt like he was on fire, his skin prickling as Adam ran his hands over him.

“Thank you.” Adam tugged at Nigel’s boxers. Nigel shucked them with little fanfare, tossing them off the bed in the general direction of Adam’s pajama pants. Adam moved his hand, but Nigel caught it, bringing it to his lips and licking the palm and fingers. His mind flashed to years of Oreo kisses and how often he’d thought of doing just this when Adam handed him a cookie. When he released Adam’s hand, the boy smiled, wrapping his fingers around Nigel’s cock and pulling softly. The pressure was different than he was used to, but the sight of Adam, his Adam, jerking him off had Nigel’s toes curling.

Adam moved slowly, leaning over Nigel’s chest to press his mouth against the tendon flexing in Nigel’s neck. “Is this OK?”

“A little tighter darl-” Adam’s grip tightened immediately and Nigel couldn’t remember any words in English or Romanian. Adam sucked at Nigel’s neck, teeth grazing as he continued pumping him. Nigel let his head fall back on a groan.

“_Shhhh_!” Adam reminded him, teeth nipping at his neck. Nigel pressed a hand to his mouth, biting every noise into his fist as his darling worked him. It didn’t take long; he could feel himself shaking and coming apart as Adam pressed kisses into his shoulder. When he came, Nigel looked up, his eyes finding Ursa Major and Minor above the foot of Adam’s bed.

* * *

They decided going to the bathroom separately would be less conspicuous. Nigel had cleaned up the best he could with the tissues in Adam’s room, then crept to the bathroom. Mr. Raki was in the kitchen, but didn’t call out to him.

There was a spare toothbrush sitting on the sink that Mr. Raki must have put out when he got up. Nigel used it, hoping Adam wouldn’t be opposed to kissing him later. He washed up as quickly as possible and headed back to the room.

While Adam showered, Nigel dressed. He wondered if he should have stayed in his boxers — maybe waited naked for Adam in the bed? He was too worried about Mr. Raki popping his head in to announce breakfast to try it. Instead, he flopped on Adam’s mattress, inhaling the scent of sex from the sheets, eyes tracing the star stickers above his head.

Fresh from the shower, Adam bounced back into the room and fell on top of Nigel. Before Nigel could open his mouth, Adam was kissing him. He was helpless to do anything but open to Adam’s questing tongue. When they pulled apart, Nigel could feel the grin stretching his face.

“Hi.”

“We should tell dad.”

Nigel stilled. “What?”

“Not that we had sex,” Adam clarified. Nigel’s heart decided it was safe to beat again. “That I’m not going to Berkeley.”

“What?”

“I’m staying,” Adam smiled brightly, “with you.”

It was exactly what Nigel wanted to hear. He’d had dreams about Adam declaring his love and kissing Nigel senseless. They would get a small apartment near the college – close enough to classes for Adam and near enough that Nigel could check on Mamă daily. Nigel would work day shifts since he didn’t need to be in school, maybe he’d make manager in a year or so. At night, he and Adam could study, go to the planetarium, or make love under a new set of glowing star stickers — ones that looked exactly like the stars had on the day they met in third grade. He could see the life so clearly, and Nigel knew he’d be happy with it.

But Adam.

Would Adam be happy working in some low-paying engineering job? He’d probably end up in an electronics store or a toy company, wasting his gift on little circuits and looking at space news on his break. There were internships at Berkeley, people who would see Adam, help him get work on satellite tracking or probe imaging systems. Would Adam be OK with giving up NASA connections at Berkeley just to come home to Nigel every day? Would Nigel be OK knowing he’d asked that of him?

“Adam, you can’t stay because of me.”

“Don’t-don’t you love me?”

Nigel had sworn never to lie to Adam — put his hand over his heart and pinky promised when he was 10 years old — but he did it anyway. “Of course I do, you’re my best friend.”

“Friend?”

“Yeah, we’re best friends, right? I’d do anything for you, you’d do anything for me?”

Adam’s face crumpled a little. Nigel balled his hands in fists to keep from reaching out and stroking his cheeks. “This was to make me feel better?”

“Yeah, little physical release after a bad break up.” Nigel forced a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “No strings, just a bit of fun.”

“Oh.”

Nigel reached up and took Adam’s hand. “You’re my favorite person, you know? I want you to…be happy.”

“I was.” Adam didn’t look at him, didn’t squeeze back when Nigel tightened his grip on Adam’s hand. “We should get breakfast.”

“Think I’ll skip it, if you don’t mind. I should check on Mamă before school.”

“Oh, OK.” Adam’s voice sounded so hollow. “Thank you.”

“Adam-” Nigel took Adam’s face in his hands. _I love you. I will never love anyone as much as I love you. That’s why I can’t let you do this. I can’t let you ruin your life over a stupid Romanian boy who works at TGI Fridays. _His hands were shaking again. Nigel shook his head and smiled. “Call me tonight, yeah? I want to hear about the scholarship.”

Adam nodded, eyes still on the ground. Nigel moved forward, pressing a chaste kiss to his mouth, but Adam flinched slightly. Nigel let go immediately. He felt like he’d been slapped.

“I’ll see you in first period, OK? Don’t forget my space fact!” Nigel fled from the room before Adam could answer.

* * *

“How’s Adam?” Mamă asked, patting the sofa when Nigel came in.

“Fine, Beth broke up with him.” Mamă watched Nigel, raising an eyebrow. Something in her stare made Nigel fidget, looking at his hands. “He got into Berkeley, Beth didn’t. He had a fit, said he didn’t want to go. He wanted to stay here.”

“And what you tell him?”

“He has to go.” Nigel could feel the tingling sensation behind his eyes, and blinked, glaring at a spot on his jeans. “He’ll be OK once he settles, and the program — he’ll get to work for NASA or something.”

“He want to stay for Beth…or for something else?” Mamă’s reached out, cold fingers traced down Nigel’s neck. His eyes went wide when he realized there must be a mark there from Adam’s mouth.

“He can’t- He has to go. If he stayed for — the wrong reasons, he’d hate me.”

“They might not be the wrong reasons, Bibic.”

Nigel shook his head, swallowing hard. Mamă pulled him close, cool hands running through his hair. “My good boy. So loud, so fierce, such a big heart – just like your Tată.”

Pushing into her embrace, Nigel took a few shaking breaths. He’d get over Adam. He’d focus on getting a better job and taking care of his Mamă. He knew Adam would be a huge success, and maybe find a pretty girl to love in California. If Nigel worked hard enough, maybe he could be happy about that too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Next Up:**  
College. What does 3,000 miles and new romantic possibilities do to Adam and Nigel's relationship?


	7. College - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nigel misses Adam terribly, but someone new might help him get over the hurt...

Nigel stomped his feet, trying to force blood flow back to his freezing toes. Being a bouncer wasn’t exactly glamorous, but it paid better than the job at TGI Fridays ever would. It was pretty easy too. He just had to stand there, look mean, hit the occasional fucker, and he was set for the night. The high rollers would tip him to get themselves past the line, and Nigel sold a little weed and molly on the side. All in all, it wasn’t a bad gig for a 19-year-old, and it meant he’d be home most mornings to make breakfast for Mamă.

But then there were nights when the temperature dropped and the wind picked up. He’d watch the pretty girls in line, shivering in their tiny dresses. At least they’d be inside in a bit.

“Excuse me!” An ID was being waved in front of Nigel’s face. He grabbed it and squinted at the little pissant in front of him.

“You’re 35?” Nigel sneered at the shit ID; a three-year-old could have made a better one.

“Yeah.” The boy squeaked.

Nigel scoffed, flicking the ID from his fingers into the street. “Come back when you can grow a proper beard.”

“Screw you, you greasy fuck!” The boy ran after his ID, but turned. “Come on, baby, this club sucks anyway.”

The girl, however, didn’t move. She merely looked at Nigel and smiled. “I’m old enough.”

Nigel raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

“For whatever I want.”

“Let’s see your ID.”

She smiled. “No.”

“No?”

“No.” Her eyes were so blue, almost as blue as Adam’s. “Trust me.”

“Like fuck.”

A small hand landed on his chest. “Trust me and I’ll bring you out a drink.”

“Why should I do that?”

“Because I’m pretty, and I’ll get you a vodka.”

“Don’t like vodka.”

The hand on his chest started to stroke softly. “But do you like me?”

Nigel lifted a finger nearly touching the girl’s nose. “You cause me any fucking trouble, darling…”

“I’m a good girl, I promise.” She grinned moving past him to the open door. She paused before slipping into the din of flashing lights and techno. “What’s your name?”

“Nigel.”

“Well Nigel, what do you drink?”

“Beer, when I’m working.” He felt his mouth curve as he watched her disappear into the club. He was still looking at the doorway when he felt his phone ring. “Reggie? Take over man, I’ll be back.”

Nigel waited until Reggie stepped over from the door, his hulking frame forcing the line back a few steps. As soon as he was in place, Nigel answered his phone and moved toward the alley. There was a man getting his dick sucked at the far end, so Nigel stayed by the dumpster to give the lucky fuck privacy as he raised the phone to his ear. “Hello, Gorgeous.”

“Hello Nigel! Are you on your break?”

“I’m all yours for the next 15 minutes.” When school had started, Adam would call nearly every hour. No matter what Nigel was doing, he’d stop and answer the phone. Sometimes Adam just wanted to talk, sometimes Adam couldn’t find his air and would just gasp into the phone as Nigel talked him into deeper breaths. By November, those calls were barely occurring anymore. Nigel knew he should be glad, but a little part of him hated that Adam didn’t need him as much.

Still, no matter what, Nigel could count on his darling to call him every night. They’d worked out a good time for Adam – 9pm, after dinner, but before bed — that also worked into Nigel’s schedule — everyone at the club knew not to bother Nigel for 15 minutes at midnight.

“Good. I had a very good day today. I reprogrammed imaging software with a team. Well, I asked them to leave me alone because Seth was staring and Lois was tapping her fingers too much. But they did! And the professor was very impressed with my work. He told me about an Ames Research Center internship that NASA has for promising-” Nigel stopped listening and took a shuddering breath. And internship meant he’d stay there; they wouldn’t have the summer. Nigel had spent his afternoons walking the city, sometimes with Mamă, sometimes alone, picking out spots that Adam might like, that they could visit together on Adam’s summer break. “It would be a great opportunity, and I might be able to make connections? I am concerned about the security clearances though, because if they find out about the times I was sent to the office because I got overwhelmed-”

Nigel laughed lightly. “Gorgeous, they’re going to take a look at that big brain of yours and beg you to work there.”

“They can’t look at my brain, unless they require an MRI. That seems unlikely.” There was a pause and Nigel could hear Adam’s huffy little breaths as he laughed at his own joke. Nigel’s chest ached that he couldn’t see the little brackets his cheeks formed around his smile. 

“They’ll love you. Even your lame jokes.”

“My jokes aren’t lame.”

“They are, but I love them anyway.”

“I-_uh_-I love making you smile. You are smiling, aren’t you, Nigel?”

Nigel ran a hand over his mouth. He was smiling, even though he felt like sobbing. “You always make me smile, Adam.”

There was a relieved little expulsion of breath. “Good.”

Nigel let the silence stretch, content to listen to Adam’s breathing. After a few moments, he could hear a soft tapping sound. “What?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re tapping.”

“I, I know I shouldn’t…It’s selfish-”

“Spit it out, gorgeous.”

“If I get an internship…I won’t be home this summer.”

“I know.”

“I, uh, I…” Nigel closed his eyes, he could picture Adam biting his lip, he wondered if his hair had grown long enough for the curls to spill over his eyes. “I wanted to spend the summer with you.”

Nigel’s gut dropped. Fucking Adam – always saying the perfect fucking thing when he shouldn’t say it.

“I-” Nigel cleared his throat, trying to get the longing out of his voice. “I wanted that too, Adam. But this — this is a big fucking deal.”

“Yes. I’d be the first incoming sophomore the program allowed.”

Nigel pulled a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his pocket and mouthed a smoke from the pack. Lighting it, he let the nicotine fill his lungs, burning away some of the bitterness he felt in his chest. He took another deep drag before he said the thing neither of them wanted to hear. “Gorgeous, you know you gotta do it, don’t you?”

“I just…Can-” Adam’s breathing was getting a little thready, and Nigel ached to run his hands through his friend’s hair, tugging at the ends to make the boy smile. “Can you come visit?”

Nigel swallowed, his throat clicking.

“I know Mamă is sick, but maybe she could stay with Dad for a week?” Adam’s fingers were tapping again. “I really want to see you again. I want to have a sleepover; I miss hearing you snore. We could go to the observatory and look at the stars together, it’s so much better than my projection! …Oh! But I still have the projector you gave me; I set it up in my room when I miss you. I miss you a lot, but my roommate says it’s OK because it’s pretty. But I think you’d like the stars here; I’d like watching them with you.”

“Adam-” Even if Mamă stayed with Mr. Raki, even if he could scrape the money together, if Nigel let himself go to California, a part of him knew he’d never come back. It would be too much to ask him to let Adam go again.

“I-if it’s the money, that’s OK,” Adam offered. “The interns get a stipend. If I save it, I’d have enough to get you a round-trip ticket by August 17.” 

“Yeah, yeah maybe.” Nigel blinked, smoke getting into his eyes. “We could split the cost, gorgeous, so you’re not wasting your whole paycheck.”

“We could! Nigel I really miss-” A noise interrupted Adam, then the sounds of low voices. “OK. Nigel? Lucas is here and I promised I would help him with our research.”

“O-oh, sure.” Nigel coiled in on himself. He only got 15 minutes with Adam most days and now this fucking Lucas was in his room, ready to – Nigel shook his head, this was for the best, what Adam needed. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, then.”

“OK. Nigel?”

“Yeah, gorgeous?”

“Please put out the cigarette.”

Nigel laughed, dropping the butt to the ground and crushing it under his boot. “It’s out, Adam.”

“Goodnight Nigel.”

“Night.”

Nigel focused on drawing air slowly in through his nose and slowly out through his mouth. Adam had taught him that breathing exercises could stave off a fit sometimes.

“Boyfriend problems?”

Nigel opened his eyes to see the blue-eyed girl watching him. She held out a beer, another in her hand.

“He’s just a friend.”

She raised an eyebrow, leaning against the wall next to Nigel. “I’ve had friends like that. It sucks.”

Nigel took the offered beer. “Not supposed to drink on the street.”

“You calling the cops?”

Nigel snorted chugging down half his beer. The girl smiled, taking a long pull from her bottle.

“So…this friend…” She raised the bottle and held it up to the streetlights, studying the label. “Think you can shake it?”

“I want to.” He had to, really. It wasn’t fair to be an anchor around Adam’s neck when he had the whole world in front of him.

The girl nodded. “I’m trying to shake something too.”

“That greaseball you were with?” Nigel sneered at the thought.

She laughed, loud and long. “No, that was just attempt number three to shake it.”

Nigel nodded. “My first attempt was in a broom closet at a house party.”

“How’d that go?”

Nigel finished his beer. The boy had wild curly hair and green eyes; Nigel tried to push the thoughts of blue eyes from his mind. But the touch was all wrong. The little noises weren’t right either. Nigel had pushed him away and found the keg. When he was drunk enough, he stumbled home trying not to think about what Adam was doing 3,000 miles away. “Not fucking great.”

“Want to try again?” The girl tilted her head, studying him. “I’m looking for a good attempt number five.”

“Five? Thought greasy was number three.”

“He was,” She allowed. “But the guy in there that bought us the beer was really nice. Should probably go in and have a quick attempt number four before your shift ends.”

Nigel laughed, something loosening slightly in his chest. He looked at her — beautiful, lithe, with sparkling blue eyes full of trouble — maybe this was his shot. “What’s your name?”

“Gabi.”

“Well Gabi, you better run your little ass back to number four. I’ve got to get back to work.”

“Walk me home when you get off?”

Nigel clicked his empty beer to her bottle, an empty toast. “It’s a date, gorgeous.”

* * *

Groping for the ringing phone, Nigel emerged from the covers with a grumble. He had already told Rico he wasn’t coming in today; he didn’t care if Jason didn’t show.

“I’m fucking sleeping!”

There was a sharp intake of breath and a small choked noise. Suddenly Nigel was utterly awake, scrambling out of the bed to sit on the floor. “Adam? Adam, is that you?”

Another choking noise, another aborted attempt at sound.

“Come on now, gorgeous, deep breaths for me.” Nigel inhaled slowly, counting to ten in his head, he exhaled the same way, exaggerating the sound as he went. He could hear the hitching breaths on the other end. Adam trying to match him, starting each breath with Nigel even if he couldn’t finish them. Nigel’s chest ached; he wanted to cash in his meager savings, leave a note for Mamă and hop the first flight to California he could find. He wanted to crawl through the phone and wrap his arms around Adam, rock with him, fill his nose with the scent of Adam’s shampoo. He’d bought a bottle the day Adam left, but Nigel’s hair never smelled the same no matter how many times he washed it.

“S-s-s-sor-ree-”

“Breathe,” Nigel’s voice was a low rumble. Adam seemed to respond best to that tone. “We’ll talk in a minute, now we’re breathing, Adam.”

Adam drew a longer breath, he made it to five that time. Nigel smiled and let his head fall back, eyes finding Polaris on his ceiling, and tracing the worn shapes of Ursa Major and Minor. He let his mind drift as the breathed together, it was almost like having Adam back in his bed for a sleepover. Nigel closed his eyes and could almost feel the steady puffs of air tickling the hair at the base of his skull.

“Nigel?”

A surge of warmth flooded into Nigel; cold floor be damned. “There you are.”

“I’m s-sorry you were sleeping.”

“Wha-oh,” Nigel laughed. “Thought you were my manager, that’s all. He’s the only one who would call me at-”

Nigel squinted at his phone. “Wait, you’re supposed to be in the lab right now, aren’t you? What happened, gorgeous?”

“S-Seth cut a hydraulic line.” Nigel waited, mouth twisting when he heard Adam’s fingers tapping and his breath hitching. “I t-told him n-not to- He didn’t listen to me. He c-cut the line and the fluid-”

There was another anguished little hiccup of air.

“Adam,” Nigel took a deep breath, smiling up at Ursa Major and Minor when he heard Adam follow him. Three breaths later, Adam was ready.

“It’s on y-your shirt. It’s all over your shirt.”

“What? Gorgeous, what shirt?”

“With the d-dogs.”

Nigel paused, fingers tapping on his bare chest. He had given that shirt to Goodwill. Beth made fun of it, saying he looked like some type of bowler in it. He’d always liked the shirt, but he only ever heard her voice when he looked at it after that. _You look like someone’s dad! Someone’s dad in a cheap bowling league!_ Adam had been there when he made the donation pile.

“Darling,” Nigel’s breath caught in his throat. “Did you take my dog shirt? With the little wiener dogs? I thought I gave that away.”

“Y-you said you didn’t want it.” Adam’s voice sounded so small. He was so fucking far away. “I always liked that shirt. It-I thought of you whenever I wore it.”

Nigel closed his eyes and pictured Adam in the shirt, tugging at the longer sleeves, and probably tucking it into his fucking khakis. “I’m fucking glad you did.”

“B-but it’s ruined. It’s…Seth…he said it was just a sh-shirt. He made f-fun of-” There was a smacking sound on the other end of the line.

“Adam!” Nigel’s voice boomed in the quiet room. “ADAM! DO NOT FUCKING HIT YOURSELF!”

“I-I-stupid. They th-think I’m-” 

“A day on Venus is longer than a year. In 3.75 billion years the Milky Way and Andromeda Galaxies will collide. There’s floating rivers in space.”

“W-water, not r-rivers. It’s actually vapor clouds.”

Nigel chuckled. “Scientists estimate there are about 500,000 pieces of space junk floating around…I’ll get you another fucking dog shirt.”

“That’s not a space fact.”

“Still a fact, gorgeous.”

Nigel heard Adam’s little huff, pictured him smiling so wide his blue eyes squinted. It made his chest burn.

“I think I can go back to class now.”

“Good.”

“Lucas came back, he brought me a clean shirt. It’s got the NASA logo and one of the first shuttles! It’s too big, but so was yours.” Nigel’s temples tingled. He wanted to scream, to claw at his sheets and demand Adam not put on some asshole’s shirt. What if he started wearing Lucas’ shirt? What if he- Nigel took a long breath, inhaling for ten seconds and exhaling for another ten count.

“Good, gorgeous. Get changed and get back to class.”

“Y-you will send me the dog shirt?”

“Course I fucking will!” Nigel would have one made if it got Lucas’ fucking shirt off Adam’s back.

“OK. Nigel?”

“What’s up, Adam?”

“Thank you.”

“Anytime, gorgeous.” Nigel ran a hand over his face, scrubbing the thoughts of stealing a car and driving to California from his mind.

“Goodbye.”

“Talk to you tonight?”

“Oh, yes, of course.”

“Tell Seth if he ever comes to New York, he’s going to get his ass beaten.”

There was a small huffy laugh. “I’m not going to threaten my classmates Nigel.”

“It’s not a threat, it’s a fucking promise.”

“Adam, we should-” Nigel snarled at the new voice, half heard and 3,000 miles closer to his Adam than he was.

“O-oh yes. Nigel? I’ll talk to you tonight, goodbye.”

The phone disconnected. Nigel sighed. “Goodbye.”

Nigel stared at his phone, willing it to ring again. Willing Adam to call back and demand that Nigel come to him. The screen blinked to black. He jumped when he heard a movement behind him.

Short red hair flopped over his shoulder. Gabi’s blue eyes squinting at him as she laid across his bed. “So…not quite over him yet, huh?”

Nigel blinked at her. She smiled, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. “I-”

“You what?”

“Last night was…”

Gabi laughed, ruffling his hair. “Hell, at least you didn’t call me Adam.”

Nigel grabbed her wrist and yanked, pulling Gabi to his lap. She yelped, smacking at his chest as she giggled. He buried his face in her shoulder. She didn’t smell like Adam. But Adam didn’t smell like Adam anymore. He smelled like Lucas. “I know who you are.”

Gabi pulled back, tilting her hair as she studied Nigel. He liked that look. He liked the mischief in the turn of her smile. “You wanna try to get over Adam again?”

Nigel hummed. Mamă would be up soon. She probably shouldn’t find a girl in his bed. “You’re not mad?”

“Hey, I’m just the girl in your bed.” Gabi looked around. “Well, I was. Now I’m the girl on your floor.”

Nigel grinned, letting his hands fit around her waist as Gabi stretched backwards. He caught a pert little nipple in his mouth and sucked once, fingers clenching as she groaned and sank her fingers into his hair.

“Now, you want me to be more than that,” Gabi rolled her hips, teasing lightly at Nigel’s thickening cock. “You’re gonna have to make a choice. Or…”

Nigel tugged gently on her nipple with his teeth. “Or?”

“Or at least get me a doggy shirt too!” Gabi laughed loud and long when Nigel growled, lifting them both back to the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Next Up:**  
Poker Night, a forced choice...and a talk with Mamă.


	8. College - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nigel is forced into a choice he doesn't want to make.

Nigel tapped his cards on the table, glancing at Mr. Raki. He had been nervous when Adam’s father had first extended the invitation to his Poker night, wary of playing games with the only father he’d ever really known. But it was nice, being in Mr. Raki’s apartment; he could pretend Adam was just behind his room door, staring up at the stars on his ceiling. Once a month, Nigel got to go back to his second home and feel his world righted, just for a bit.

“Too rich for my blood.” Mr. Raki’s Army buddy, Harlan, folded. He tossed his cards into the center of the table and rose. “Anyone want another round?”

Nigel raised his hand, then focused back on Mr. Raki. The man was chewing on the left side of his bottom lip, his nose wrinkling just slightly. It was the exact face Adam made when he was nervous. Nigel’s chest flooded with warmth at the thought.

“You’re bluffing.” Nigel smirked at Mr. Raki, flicking a chip into the pile. “And I call.”

Mr. Raki’s mouth thinned for a minute, before he smiled, ducking his head and dropping his hand. He had a pair, but Nigel had two. “You’re supposed to respect your elders! Don’t you smirk at me like that!”

“Your boy’s got Marcus’s number!” Harlan laughed, putting his arm around Mamă as he sat a soda next to Nigel. She laughed too, shaking her head at the men.

“You’re supposed to be on my side!” Mr. Raki threw a carrot stick at Harlan; he always stocked vegetables on the poker nights when Mamă felt well enough to join Nigel. Harlan had taken to calling Mamă “his best girl” and making sure she sat by him at the table. Nigel had hated that at first, but Mr. Raki had pulled him aside and explained that Harlan had lost his wife to a heart attack and was sensitive to Mamă’s condition. Nigel had softened slightly when he noticed that Harlan always came to poker night with heart-healthy treats and printouts on Afib treatments and medications.

“I’m on my side, this kid is cleaning me out!” Harlan threw the carrot back before turning to Mamă. “Ivona, tell your boy to have mercy on me.”

Mamă laughed. “Nigel, is rude to beat old men.”

That drew another round of laughter.

“You’re breaking my heart!” Harlan clutched at his chest dramatically.

Mamă laughed, ruffling Nigel’s hair. She had gotten quiet over the past few months, a stillness seeping into her. But Mamă would laugh and joke at poker night, always so pleased when Nigel beat Harlan and Mr. Raki.

“Couple of hustlers!” Mr. Raki accused, wagging a finger in Nigel’s face as he smiled. “I’m only playing one more hand with you!”

“I don’t see why we even bother,” Harlan grumbled, collecting the cards to shuffle. “We should just hand the little shit our wallets when he walks in the door.”

“You see, Bibic, when you beat old men, it remind them that they’re old and being replaced, they get angry,” Mamă smiled when Harlan sputtered.

“You just had to expand poker night, didn’t you Marcus?” Harlan began to deal.

They played two more rounds before Mamă began to get quiet. Harlan had gotten her a blanket, but her hands were still cold when she touched Nigel’s cheek.

“We should go.” Nigel stood, turning to help Mamă get up. “It’s late.”

Mr. Raki smiled, running into the kitchen and emerging with a manila envelope. “Here, don’t forget these.”

Nigel grinned running his fingers over the envelope, peeking inside to see a month’s worth of colorful Post It notes.

“He’ll deliver the next batch in person,” said Mr. Raki. “When he sees you over Christmas.”

Nigel beamed. “Two weeks, right?”

Mr. Raki nodded.

“Nigel!” Harlan rounded the corner with the jackets. He held Mamă’s coat aloft as she slipped it on. “I called a cab. I’ll drop you two off before I head home.”

Nigel hummed, already digging through the Post Its, imagining Adam frowning slightly as he wrote them.

* * *

“What are these?” Nigel looked up from the box of takeout he was pulling from the fridge. Gabi was standing in the glow of the fridge light in her panties and one of Nigel’s old t-shirts. Nigel’s first thought was a prayer that Mamă was sound asleep and wouldn’t wander out of her room to see the nearly naked girl in her kitchen. Mamă and Gabi had met twice. Both times Gabi was in some state of undress. Both times, Mamă had given him the same look she used to save for whenever she was called into the principal’s office. Nigel wanted them to meet properly, to convince Mamă that Gabi was a _nice girl_, one that would finally make him into a _nice boy_. But Nigel’s breath caught and any thoughts of a family dinner dissipated when he saw what was clutched in Gabi’s hand.

Purple and pink Post Its were crumpled in her fist, wrinkled now, not pristine like Adam always made sure they were before sending. They would probably smell like Gabi’s hand cream now.

“Give them back.” Gabi dodged when he snatched for them.

“From Adam, then? A whole envelope full.” Gabi looked at him, her chin tilted in challenge. “I thought you said you were letting him go.”

“I am.”

“Nigel, you said-”

“It’s not, it’s just something he does. They’re just-”

“You said you were going to choose.” She held the Post Its out to him again. “So...choose.”

“We’re still friends.”

“Friends.” Gabi tilted her head. “A friend who left you for a better life, who only calls when he needs you? Or a girl who’s right here.”

Nigel grabbed the Post Its and tossed them in the trash. “There. Chosen.”

“It’s a start.” Gabi smiled. She twined her arms around Nigel’s neck and kissed him. “I gotta go, early shift before my cello recital.”

Nigel watched Gabi saunter out of the kitchen. She wiggled a little when she felt his eyes on her ass. He grinned, counting the seconds until the apartment door closed and he could retrieve the notes.

* * *

Nigel was rubbing at a grease stain on a purple Post It when Mamă shuffled into the room.

“Mamă? It’s early, what are you doing up?”

“I heard your friend leave.”

“Gabi’s my girlfriend.” Mamă scrunched her nose. “Mamă, please.”

She shivered. Nigel pulled the afghan off the back of the couch and wrapped it around her shoulders. Her hands felt like ice as he tucked them inside the wool. When he looked down, he noticed her feet were bare.

With a small frown, Nigel raised up, retrieving the slippers he had bought for her from under the bed in her room. She forgot them sometimes; she seemed to be forgetting more things every day. Wordlessly, Nigel slipped the slippers on her feet. The joints were stiff and her toes frigid, Nigel spent a few moments on his knees rubbing at her ankles, trying to coax her blood back into her extremities.

When Nigel looked up, Mamă had the purple Post It in her hand, examining it. “Adam still smart?”

“Yeah.”

Mamă smiled, turning the Post It. “Smarter than you?”

Nigel laughed. “Yeah.”

“If he so much smarter, why you the one making all the decisions?”

“Mamă, it’s n-”

“I put your clothes away, I see the box.”

Nigel ducked his head. He had a box hidden in the bottom drawer of his dresser. Just a shoe box, innocent enough. Nothing Gabi would think to open. In it, was every Post It Nigel had ever gotten from Adam. Years of little factoids and figures. Pieces of space, pieces of Adam’s brain for Nigel to treasure and hoard. When he was low, he’d take them out, read through them, imagine they still smelled like Adam’s soap.

Shaking his head, Nigel ran a hand through his hair. “I’m no good for-”

“He’s so smart you let him decide.”

“I-”

Mamă stuck the Post It over Nigel’s heart, then cupped his face in those frail, freezing hands. “You love him enough to let him pick, yes?”

“It’s too late.”

“It’s not, Bibic.”

Nigel swallowed. “It’s better like this.”

Mamă squeezed his chin. “For who?”

“I need to be here, and he needs to be-”

Tears flooded Mamă’s eyes, she shook her head. “One day I’ll be gone and then you promise you go to him.”

Nigel grabbed at her wrists, pulling Mamă into a fierce hug. “Don’t say that.”

“You can go. Marcus will check on me, I promise. I take my pills. I go to doctor. I won’t do nothing strenuous. You go to-”

“Mamă please.”

“He don’t understand you yet.” Mamă said. “His brain, he thinks you mean what you say, he don’t know you’re lying for him, because you love him. It’s not fair to-”

“He’s better off.” Nigel let Mamă go, taking a deep breath. He forced a smile. “He gets his spaceships and I get New York and my Mamă. It’s a good deal.”

“You know what interesting, Bibic? You tell me all your reasons for staying here.” She counted them on her fingers. “Me. Adam. But not once did you say because you with that Gabi girl. Not once did you say because you don’t love him or he don’t love you.”

Nigel closed his eyes. “I’ve gotta get breakfast started.”

A cool hand grabbed his wrist as he tried to pass her. “Your Mamă pretty smart too – you won’t listen to Adam, you listen to her.” 

Nigel smiled, but pulled away. He’d have to hide the rest of the Post Its before Gabi came over tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Programming Note:**  
I'm on vacation next week and while I would LOVE to promise you I'm going to have time to upload a chapter, I...will probably forget. So I'm skipping a week. I'm sorry y'all, but regular posting resumes in a week. 
> 
> **In Two Weeks:**  
A green-eyed monster rears its ugly head, and says some things he might not be able to take back...


	9. College - Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nigel has grand plans for Adam's winter break, but Adam's got a surprise that may just break Nigel's heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! With the holidays and traveling and a very late night at the office, I've had ZERO time to respond to comments. I'm going to start that tomorrow. I promise. Thank you for being patient, and for leaving comments - because I live off of those comments!

Nigel checked and re-checked the paper in his pocket. He had bought tickets for the Hayden Planetarium’s space theater in November, planning a family outing. He’d gotten tickets for himself, Adam, Mamă, Mr. Raki, and even Harlan — mostly paid for by the winnings of poker night and the few dollars he managed to put away after every paycheck. He’d considered inviting Gabi along, but he wasn’t sure she’d be happy knowing he’d spent most of his money on a surprise for Adam.

The new show was called The Dark Universe, and Adam had been so excited to tell him about it after he watched the trailer online.

Mr. Raki opened the door and smiled. “Nigel! You’re early for poker night! Where’s Ivona?”

Nigel shook his head. “She didn’t feel so good. Said she was going to stay home.”

Nigel held out the ticket print-out. “I wanted to give you this, for safe keeping.”

Honestly, he hadn’t wanted Gabi to see the tickets in his room, but Mr. Raki didn’t need to know that. Smiling, Mr. Raki took the printout, eyes glancing over the page.

“Nigel,” his voice was soft. “This is for a whole section of the planetarium.”

Nigel studied his feet. He’d had to sweet talk the girl at the desk into reserving a whole section, and pay in advance. He’d been skipping lunches ever since. “I thought it might- Adam hates it when it’s crowded, and it’s always crowded before Christmas. This way he can have some…._uh_ space.”

“How much did this cost?”

Nigel shook his head. Last year he and Mr. Raki had gone in together to buy Adam a replica space suit. This year, Nigel had wanted to do something himself. Mr. Raki sighed, pulling Nigel into a hug.

“He’s so excited to see you,” he whispered into Nigel’s hair. “He won’t stop talking about it. You know he has a whole plan for your first day?”

Nigel grinned, looping an arm beneath Mr. Raki’s to squeeze back. Nigel had plans too.

* * *

Nigel frowned when his phone rang at 12:45 on Saturday. He was supposed to go in to work in a few hours and had promised Gabi he’d pick her up so she could have lunch with him and Mamă. It would be the last time they saw each other before Gabi went home to New Jersey to see her dad for the holidays.

“Adam?” Nigel could hear the PA blasting through the phone, announcing flights. “Gorgeous, you at the airport already?”

There were a few strangled breaths over the line, Nigel listened for a moment, trying to figure out where Adam was. “Darling, darling…I need you to breathe for me.”

“T-they t-took” Adam made a noise when the PA system blared again, choking off his words. A panicked whine filled the receiver.

“Shhhh, focus on me, gorgeous. Breathe with me.” Nigel started the process he knew by heart — inhaling for a ten-count, exhaling for another ten. “Follow me, Adam, just follow the breaths.”

Adam had just started to hiccup along with Nigel, when a sound cut short Adam’s breathing.

“ADAM! Jesus, baby you scared the shit out of me. What are you doing on the floor?” Nigel’s heart stopped; his own breath frozen on the inhale. He heard scuffling and then a _thunk_. Adam sounded further away now. “Shhhhh, I know, baby I know, why don’t you breathe with me, huh?”

Nigel wanted to call out, to demand Adam pick the fucking phone back up, but he just listened, his ears ringing as he eavesdropped on some man talking Adam through his fit.

“N-Nigel-” Adam’s voice. At least he remembered that Nigel existed.

“I know, you can call your friend later,” There was a noise; it sounded like a kiss and Nigel felt bile pool at the back of his tongue. “You’re with me now, beautiful. Can you breathe for me?”

Nigel knew he should have been happy, listening to Adam’s breathing steady, listening as Adam pulled himself back together in the arms of some fucking man 3,000 miles away. But he just felt sick; he’d been replaced. Someone smart and getting a degree had filled in for him with no trouble. Hadn’t even taken a fucking semester. And now he got to listen to it.

There were more kissing sounds, and soothing murmurs. Nigel could feel his hand shaking, the phone rattling by his ear as rage consumed him.

“Oh, Nigel.” Adam’s flat little voice rang in the receiver. It sounded like an afterthought. Another kissing noise.

“Don’t worry about him, call him when you get to the city. He’s probably bouncing drunks now or-” The voice cut off and Nigel swallowed, a bitter taste coating his mouth.

“He’s on the phone, Lucas.”

A laugh. “Shit, really? That’s embarrassing. Well tell him bye so we can get to the lounge, OK?”

Nigel heard hands scrabbling over the phone and one more fucking kiss, nice and close to the fucking receiver for good measure. 

“Nigel? I’m sorry. I got upset. Security took your Christmas present. I wanted to carry it on the plane with me, so it would be safe, but they said it could contain hazar-”

“Who the fuck is Lucas?” Nigel could hear the fury in his voice. Adam stopped mid-explanation, as if he could sense it too.

“Nigel?”

“WHO THE FUCK IS LUCAS?”

“H-he’s my lab partner in engineering.” Adam’s voice was tight and nervous, Nigel winced at the tone. “W-we st-started seeing each other last m-month and I w-wanted you and dad t-to meet him. It w-was going t-to be a s-surprise.”

Nigel had heard about Lucas. He was smart and blond, and didn’t mind Adam’s quirks. Nigel had always hated hearing about Lucas, about how smart he was and how helpful, and now he knew why.

“I know you sound mad; I just don’t understand why.”

Nigel leaned heavily against the wall. There wasn’t a reason, really. Nigel had told him to go to school. Nigel had told him they were just friends. Nigel had started seeing a girl, hoping he wouldn’t stay up long nights staring at Ursa Major and Ursa Minor glowing on his bedroom ceiling and wondering what Adam was doing at this very second.

But Nigel hadn’t expected it to be so easy for Adam. He had thought he meant something to the blue-eyed dream that seemed to be the center of his life. He had hoped…That somewhere in California, Adam was desperately missing him too, staring up at plastic stars on his ceiling. But he wasn’t, he was kissing Lucas, making new star patterns with a new man and that knowledge burned through Nigel’s brain until it consumed any other thoughts.

“Why the fuck are you bothering me when you have Lucas to kiss you and make you better?”

“I always call you.”

“Yeah, and I’m fucking sick of it.”

“W-what?”

“You think I want to talk you through every fucking freak out. Why don’t you bother fucking Lucas?”

“Y-you s-said-”

“I said call if you need me, you fucking don’t, do you?”

“I d-do.”

“Sure, after you drop the fucking phone to suck your boyfriend’s fucking face.”

“Nigel-”

“Don’t fucking bother me anymore.”

“Nig-”

Nigel hung up and threw the phone across the room. He stormed out of the apartment, breath heaving as he tried not to throw up. He had to go pick up Gabi; she, at least, was waiting for him.

* * *

Adam hadn’t called. Nigel didn’t think he would. He’d said not to bother him, and Adam would take that seriously.

But Mr. Raki had. He’d left messages on Nigel’s cracked phone, called Mamă, and even threatened to come over if Nigel didn’t pick up the damn phone.

“What about your present?” Mamă asked, glaring as Nigel put on his coat. He’d called his boss and begged for any shifts he could get over the holidays. He would work every night through New Year. He’d even managed to pick up a few shifts shadowing the afternoon bartender, and if he learned the ropes, maybe he wouldn’t have to stand outside checking IDs in the frigid New York winter anymore.

“We can open presents when I get home on Christmas,” Nigel moved to brush past Mamă.

She grabbed his elbow. “Your present to Adam, Bibic.”

Nigel shook his head. “Mr. Raki has the tickets.”

“We supposed to go.”

“Go if you want!” He winced when he saw Mamă’s eyes go wide. Her grip tightened on his elbow, hauling him close.

“You don’t yell at me! You keep yelling and stomping around, trying to pretend you-” Mamă looked down, sighing. When she looked back up at Nigel, her eyes were tear-stained. “You can’t yell me away, Bibic. You not alone.”

“I’m sorry, Mamă.” He wrapped her in his arms, the tension in his chest easing a little when she stroked his back. “I-I can’t go. If I go, I’ll make it worse.”

Mamă frowned but released him. “You always take the hard path, just like your Tată.”

* * *

Mr. Raki was waiting in the living room next to Mamă when Nigel got home on Christmas Eve. His boss had let him leave at 11, even though he’d begged to close — some shit about being with family. 

“No.” Nigel said when Mr. Raki opened his mouth. “I’m going to bed.”

He tromped past Mamă and Mr. Raki, steeling himself when he heard footsteps following him.

“He’s leaving on the 27th.”

Nigel didn’t turn, pulling off his shirt that smelled of sweat and spilled beer. “So?”

“He’s going to spend New Year’s with Lucas’ family.”

Nigel closed his eyes and tried not to tear the cloth in his hands to bits. “Good for him.”

“Nigel-”

“Why are you here? Go play daddy with Adam’s new fucking friend.”

Nigel pulled a sleep shirt over his head and turned, sneering. Mr. Raki’s mouth thinned. He folded his arms across his chest.

“He’s a good boy: Polite, smart as a whip, handsome too.” Mr. Raki raked his eyes over Nigel’s wild hair and stony face. “He’s all sharp cheekbones and strong jaw lines, like someone I know.”

Nigel shook his head, jaw tensing. Mr. Raki walked closer, like he was approaching a rabid animal. “He’s wonderful, really, the perfect boy to bring home.”

“Fucking mazel tov.”

“But he doesn’t make Adam laugh — not like you do. And he doesn’t make Adam’s face light up when he curses.” Mr. Raki smiled. “And he didn’t keep Adam from waiting outside Hayden in the cold, looking around for someone who wasn’t going to show.”

Nigel’s gut twisted. It had been freezing Monday. Why hadn’t Adam just gone inside?

A heavy hand fell on Nigel’s shoulder. “Like it or not, Nigel, I’ve got two boys to worry about. Especially when one’s acting like a child.”

“I’m not your-”

“You are, kid, even when you’re an asshole. And if I don’t see you at poker night on the 4th, Harlan and I are just going to come find you.” Mr. Raki squeezed Nigel’s shoulder. “Merry Christmas.”

Nigel rubbed at his eyes as Mr. Raki left. When he heard the door to the apartment shut, Nigel went to his dresser and pulled out his shoebox of Adam’s notes. He fell asleep with a piece of blue paper between his fingers.

* * *

Christmas was a quiet affair; Nigel woke up to the smell of brânzoaică baking. He wandered into the kitchen to see Mamă sprinkling sugar over the fresh pastries.

“Mamă, you’re not supposed to-” Nigel had almost forgotten the smell.

“Shut up, Bibic, is Christmas.” Mamă snapped him with a kitchen towel and pointed to the table. “Set the places.”

They ate warm cheese pastries and watched old movies on TV. Nigel teased Mamă when she started sniffling as Clarence got his wings. They exchanged presents — an electric blanket for Mamă and a new pair of winter boots for Nigel.

“Do you want to go down to Rockefeller? Look at the tree?” It was Mamă’s favorite tradition. Even Adam would brave the crowds to go with them, year after year, because Mamă would get so excited over the lights and the music.

Mamă shook her head. “Is too cold. Let’s stay in, Bibic.”

Nigel frowned, but tucked her heated blanket under her chin. She was always so cold now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Next Up:**  
SO...I know I just took a week off but...I refuse to post the next chapter on Christmas day. Not because I won't be around, but because NO ONE should read that chapter over the holidays. So...my holiday present to you is a choice - would you rather I post that chapter Saturday or wait a week (you can probably guess the content, so you know...choose wisely)?


	10. College - Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The worst night of Nigel's life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TRIGGER WARNING:**  
So, I've been dreading posting this chapter, but here it is. If you have problems with death, especially the death of a parent, this chapter may not be for you. It's based almost exactly on my father's death, so it's pretty triggering for me. If you'd like to skip the actual death but read the aftermath, stop reading at "Nigel bent to kiss her cheek" and skip to "The planning for Mamă’s funeral" (it's about three sections of the chapter). Take care of yourselves when reading, and again, sorry I delayed the chapter.

Adam left on the 27th. Nigel made sure he had a double shift that day. He worked until he was almost falling asleep on the subway. He called Gabi, on his walk home; he just wanted to hear a friendly voice, one that was happy to hear from him. She told him she was staying through New Year’s, and Nigel nodded along with her voice, wishing her a happy New Year’s if he didn’t talk to her before the first.

Mamă was waiting for him when he got home.

“Marcus called.” 

Nigel sighed. His feet were throbbing and he wanted to collapse on his bed, let the world fade away to the plastic constellations on his ceiling. “In the morning, Mamă.”

A hand caught him by the collar, the fingers like ice. “Nigel, now.”

“He doesn’t need me.” Nigel let himself be hauled around to face her. “He’s with Lucas now.”

“But Marcus said-”

“It’s done.”

“Bibic-” Cold hands traced along Nigel’s cheek.

“In the morning, Mamă.” Nigel looked at her, at the dark circles under her eyes. He hated when she waited up for him. She needed rest. “Please.”

“Just like your Tată.” Mamă sucked her teeth before shaking her head. “I let you sleep, but in morning, you come talk to me.”

“Goodnight Mamă.”

She held a finger up to his face. “In morning, Nigel.”

“I promise.”

Nigel bent to kiss her cheek, pressing her close for a moment before heading to bed.

* * *

_Thump._

Nigel snuffled, rubbing his palms over his eyes. He lay in bed, squinting up at the stars above him in the silence, trying to discern what had woken him.

_ Thump._

It was a dull sound, muffled by the wall. Nigel turned his head in the dark — was Mamă moving something?

_Thump. _

The dresser. Nigel sighed. He had promised her he’d move it so she could clean. He’d forgotten to do it for two days. Now, she was trying to move the fucking thing herself. He sat up in bed, stretching.

_Thump. _

“Mamă, let me move it! I’ll be right there.”

He slipped a pair of sweatpants on, shaking his head when he heard the thump again. “Mamă, let me!”

He moved into her room and threw the door open. “You know you shouldn’t be-”

Mamă was sprawled across the bedroom floor, her arm crumpled at an unnatural angle beneath her. Her eyes were on the ceiling, unseeing, her mouth parted limply. Nigel blinked, his brain racing, but refusing to let him move from his spot by the door. Mamă jolted then, her legs jumping as a shock ran through her limp body.

_Thump. _

Nigel fell to the floor, crawling across the cheap linoleum. He dragged her into his arms, pulling her off the cold tiles and onto the small rug by her bed. He put his cheek by her mouth, but felt only stillness. She jolted in his arms.

“Mamă? MAMĂ!” Nigel laid her down gently, trying to remember the CPR class he and Adam took junior year. He started chest compressions, counting in his head as his tears fell on her unmoving face. When he breathed into her mouth, he heard the hollow sound of the air filling an empty cavern. She jolted in his hands again but didn’t breathe the air out.

“Please, răsufla… răsufla…” He chanted, pressing harder, counting aloud. He spoke to her in Romanian, begging her to blink, to draw a breath, to do something. She was so cool under his fingertips.

Nigel scrambled for her phone, charging on the nightstand. He dialed 911 while he continued one-handed chest compressions. In America, they had tools — they had machines for everything. If they could just get here in time, everything would be fine.

Nigel kept the chest compressions going for eight minutes. He could hear the 911 operator on the phone, asking him questions, but he had to focus on Mamă. If he kept up the CPR until the paramedics arrived…he’d stop for a second to let them in…it would be fine…it would all be fine…

* * *

They worked on Mamă for 20 minutes.

Nigel watched, crumpled in the corner of her bedroom. He listened to the tear of her nightgown as the EMTs tried to place defibrillator pads on Mamă’s chest. He heard them murmuring to her, words of encouragement as they injected her with something. But mostly, he heard the _thump _— every 20 seconds, as his Mamă’s feet jolted and fell lifeless to the floor.

He didn’t realize that anyone was speaking to him until he felt hands on his face. “Sir? Sir.”

Nigel blinked. There was a woman in front of him. “Sir, I’m so sorry. We’re going to turn the internal defibrillator off now, OK?”

Nigel furrowed his brow. “No. N-no she needs that. It keeps her heart-”

The woman ran a hand over his cheek. Nigel realized he must be crying. “I’m so sorry, sir. Can you – Can you call anyone?”

Nigel looked at the woman again. “But Mamă-”

“She’s gone.” Nigel forgot English. He didn’t understand what this woman was saying. He watched the other paramedic as he tapped something over Mamă’s chest, stopping her feet mid-jolt. “The officer here will wait with you and your Mama until the coroner arrives, but I think you should call someone.”

“Coroner?” Nigel’s voice seemed to be echoing inside his skull.

“He has to clear the body, then you can have her brought to a funeral-”

Nigel couldn’t hear anymore. His ears were ringing. The woman waved something in front of his face — it was Mamă’s phone. She put it in his hands and Nigel unlocked it on autopilot. He navigated to recent calls. Nigel and one other number.

Nigel tapped it and listened as the phone dialed.

Mr. Raki picked up on the third ring. “Ivona? What’s wrong? Are you OK? Where’s Nigel? Did you talk to him? …Ivona?”

Nigel dropped the phone and sobbed into his knees. The paramedic grabbed the cell. “Hello sir? Do you know the residents at-”

Nigel didn’t listen to the rest, the words blurring into a soft drone beside him. He looked at Mamă’s feet while tears streamed from his eyes, still holding out hope that they might jolt with life one more time.

* * *

Nigel wasn’t sure how long he sat looking at Mamă’s feet. Time seemed to stretch and snap before him; nothing made any sense anymore. He jumped when he felt an arm wrap around him, pulling him into a tight hug. He could hear Mr. Raki’s voice, hollow and echoing in Nigel’s ears. He shook his head; he didn’t understand the words.

“Bibic,” Nigel’s eyes snapped up, looking at Mr. Raki. The man smiled sadly, tears falling from his eyes. “I need you to go put on some jeans and a shirt, OK? Can you do that?”

“But Mamă-”

“I’ll stay with her,” Mr. Raki ran a hand through Nigel’s hair. “I won’t leave her alone.”

Nigel stood on unsteady knees. Mr. Raki helped him find his footing, before gently nudging Nigel out the door. He moved to his dresser in a daze, pulling out the first shirt he found. He managed to find boxers and his jeans, still draped over his desk chair from last night, and pull them on.

When he came back to Mamă, Mr. Raki had covered her with her quilt, and was whispering to her.

“…I promise. You don’t have to worry about him, Ivona.” Mr. Raki looked up, smiling through his tears. “Is it OK if I make some calls, Nigel? Do you want to stay here while I do that?”

Nigel nodded, sitting back in the corner of the bedroom. He could hear Mr. Raki murmuring on the phone. People walked in and out of the room, some examining Mamă, others just talking to Nigel and offering hands to shake. He blinked at it all, moving through the motions like he was underwater.

It wasn’t until the men tried to put her in a bag that Nigel moved. He screamed, lunging for the man who was yanking at his Mamă. Nigel felt himself being pulled back, strong arms around his chest.

“_Shhh_, _shhh_, Nigel we have to let her go.” Nigel struggled in Mr. Raki’s arms. “It’s time to let her go, Bibic.”

He collapsed, letting Mr. Raki take his weight. He heard soft murmurs after that and felt a hand in his hair. Nigel closed his eyes; he didn’t want to watch them put Mamă in the bag. He flinched at the sound of the zipper, feeling Mr. Raki flinch along with him.

When the room was empty, Nigel heard Mr. Raki shift. The man stood before him, offering Nigel his hand. “Come on, let’s go home.”

“I am home.”

“Not tonight, Nigel. Come on.” Nigel let Mr. Raki wrap a jacket around his shoulders and lead him down to a waiting taxi. He followed him in a fugue, into Mr. Raki’s apartment and into Adam’s room.

Mr. Raki sat with him for a long time, perched on the edge of Adam’s bed and stroking his hair as Nigel stared up at Adam’s stars. Sleep eventually came for him, his head lolling on Adam’s pillow, tears soaking the fabric.

* * *

The planning for Mamă’s funeral seemed to take ages. Nigel sat at the Raki’s dining room table, listening to funeral options and blinking at pages of flower arrangements, looking at dates for the ceremony, and deciding between cremation and burial. 

Nigel knew the Eastern Orthodox Church frowned upon cremation, but Mamă had always said she didn’t like the idea of being stuck in the ground. So, fuck those religious bastards, he’d do what Mamă wanted.

Harlan came by every afternoon, with donuts and a six pack, and Nigel would sit between him and Mr. Raki on the couch, drinking and watching the nightly news in a daze. Harlan said it didn’t matter if he wasn’t 21 yet, Nigel was a man if he dealt with funeral planning. Mr. Raki had agreed, but still wouldn’t let Nigel have more than two beers in a night.

Between planning and blindly shoveling food in his mouth, Nigel barely did anything. He texted Gabi once. He showered when Mr. Raki told him to. He would nod when Harlan slapped a hand on his shoulder and spoke solemnly. He focused on existing. It was all he could do at the moment.

On the third day, Mr. Raki sat down next to Nigel and held out the boy’s cracked cell. “I think you should call Adam.”

Nigel jolted. “Didn’t you tell him?”

Mr. Raki sighed, pressing the phone to Nigel’s hand. “I think you boys need to talk. Tell him to come home. I’ll take care of the tickets.”

“But I-”

“Nigel, call him.”

* * *

The phone rang four times, Nigel felt his heartbeat slow — maybe he could just leave a voicemail. Maybe he wouldn’t have to say the words out loud at all.

“Nigel?”

“A-Adam-” Something broke in Nigel’s chest. He took a shuddering breath, trying to find his nerve.

“I can’t believe you picked up!” Nigel felt like he’d been slapped. He could hear Lucas close to the phone. “You don’t have to talk to him, not after the way he treated you.”

“He’s my friend.”

“He doesn’t act like it.” There was shuffling in the receiver. “Just because you were friends-”

“We’re still friends-”

“He yelled at you! Do you remember how much you cried? Baby, just hang up.”

“It’s OK.” Then Adam’s voice was closer, nearer to the phone. “Nigel? What do you want?”

Nigel felt cold. It seemed to creep up his body, turning his fingers stiff and making his stomach ache. He thought of Mamă’s hands. Was this what she felt?

“I don’t want anything from you.” Nigel hung up, turning off his phone.

He told Mr. Raki that he had to go home. It was time he faced the place. Harlan offered to drive him, but Nigel declined.

“I want you to call me in the morning.” Mr. Raki said, holding the door open for Nigel. “If I don’t hear from you by 10-”

“He just needs some time, Marcus. Let the man think.” Harlan smiled at Nigel. “You know where we are if you need anything. You can come by my place if you want, I just got Netflix.”

Nigel smiled shaking his head. “I just need to go home.”

“Did you call Adam?”

Nigel couldn’t look at Mr. Raki, instead he lifted his eyes to just above his shoulder. “I will.”

“You need to call him.”

“I promise.” Nigel turned on his heel and walked into the streets. He didn’t bother using the subway, he wanted to walk home, feel the wind whipping his face. He couldn’t seem to feel the cold anymore.

* * *

Nigel spotted Gabi when he got to the landing of his apartment. She was sitting on his welcome mat, playing with her phone. Beside her, was a large paper bag.

“Gabi?”

She looked up and smiled, standing to offer him a hug. “Hey! Where were you? I talked to Shelly, he said you were home.”

“I…I needed some air.”

“Jesus, Nigel, you’re freezing.” Gabi cupped his ungloved hands and breathed on them, rubbing them to get the circulation back.

“I thought you were in Jersey.”

Gabi scoffed. “Your Mamă died. Did you think I wouldn’t be here?”

She kept rubbing his hands, offering him a sad smile.

“Your dad-”

“Can watch the ball drop on his own this year. I’ll call him at midnight.” Gabi tugged on his hand. “Come on, let’s get inside and I can warm you up.”

Nigel nodded, releasing Gabi’s hands so he could open the door. She bent to pick up the paper bag. Nigel poked at it. “What’s that?”

“Brânzoaică.”

“What?”

“Did I say it wrong? Bran-”

“Where did you get those?”

“Nita’s.”

Nigel took her hand again. She was so warm. “You went to Queens for fucking cheese pastries?”

Gabi squeezed his fingers. “Ivona told me they were the best, once. I thought they might cheer you up.”

Nigel started to tear up again. He held onto Gabi’s hand, a warm lifeline to keep the cold at bay. “Marry me.”

Gabi’s eyes went wide. “Huh?”

Nigel’s heart was in his throat. He could hear a tapping sound in the back of his mind, it sounded like Adam’s fingers drumming on his brain. He shook his head. “Fucking marry me. Today.”

Gabi smiled. Her eyes were so blue. Maybe this was what was supposed to happen.

“Yeah,” Gabi nodded. “Ok.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Next Up:**  
Nigel sets his life on fire, Adam's there to watch.


	11. College - Part 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nigel says two goodbyes this week, he's prepared for neither.

They couldn’t get married that day. They had to wait 24 hours after getting a license.

By January 3, Nigel had a wife. He carried her over the threshold, one hand clutching her thigh, the other a cheap bottle of champagne he was able to wrangle with his fake ID. They kissed on Nigel’s bed, the sweet bubbles popping between them as they rolled under the glowing stars.

He found that if he stayed drunk and in his room with Gabi, there wasn’t much to worry about. She was sweet, she tasted good, and as long as he wasn’t sober, the glow from Adam’s stars above them didn’t bother him too much. He ignored his phone, answering Mr. Raki’s calls would kill his buzz. When the champagne ran out, Nigel wandered out on the freezing streets and found a liquor store that didn’t check IDs and brought home a handle of vodka.

On the fifth of January, Nigel slit his eyes open when the banging at his door wouldn’t stop. He wandered into the living room on stumbling feet, stiff-kneed and squinting. Opening the door to tell whomever to fuck off, Nigel jumped back when the door burst open in his hands.

Harlan barreled into the apartment, a garment bag in his hand. Before Nigel could form a word, Harlan sniffed Nigel, frowned, and tossed the garment bag on the couch. A hand snatched Nigel’s ear and it took a moment to register he was being dragged.

“HARLAN! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU-”

“I know loss, boy. I know what it does and I know how easy it is to let yourself go down this road.” A door banged open and Nigel was being shoved. His ass hit cold tile and he flinched a second before freezing water rained on his head. Nigel grunted, trying to climb out of the tub, but Harlan shoved him back down. “Now you’re grown, and I got no say in how you live your life. But you will show up for Ivona’s ceremony clean and in your right mind. DO YOU HEAR ME?”

Nigel blinked. Mamă’s ceremony. He’d…how many days had passed?

“Nigel? Baby, what- WHO ARE YOU?”

Harlan turned and raised an eyebrow at Gabi, who was desperately clutching at the hem of one of Nigel’s t-shirts, pulling it down. “I’m getting him ready for his Mamă’s funeral, who are you?”

Gabi looked at Nigel. “That was today? SHIT! I don’t have anything to wear.”

Harlan glanced at Nigel, then back at Gabi. She got closer to Nigel. “You think I can just wear the dress I wore to the wedding?”

“Wedding?”

Gabi turned, smiling. She held out a hand and Harlan glanced away when the shirt rode back up her creamy thighs. “I’m Gabi Ibanescu, Nigel’s wife.”

Harlan whistled low before taking her hand and shaking it. “Nice to meet you. You mind getting ready, we should leave in thirty minutes, Mrs. Ibanescu.”

Gabi nodded and bounded back to their room. Nigel grimaced when Harlan turned back to him. The older man plucked a bar of soap off the dish and tossed it to Nigel. “You clean up, we’ll worry about the other mess you’ve made after the funeral.”

* * *

The sun was far too bright, wind whipping around them as Nigel shifted out of the cab. Nigel squinted against it, his ears ringing as he shuffled behind Harlan to the spot in the park. It wasn’t exactly where Mamă had watched over him and Adam as boys, but there were regulations about spreading ashes. Mr. Raki had said she’d understand.

Nigel cocked his head when he saw two figures waiting for them, in dark black suits and overcoats — one still with a grim set to his shoulders, the other looking around the park, hands tapping furiously on his thigh.

“Adam.” He didn’t realize he’d said it aloud until Adam’s blue eyes snapped to him. He smiled at Nigel, eyes full of happiness as his fingers stilled. 

A wave of nausea hit Nigel. He couldn’t do this. None of this was right. He reeled slightly, feeling unsteady in the oppressive light. Adam frowned and began walking forward, hand stretched out, but it was a smaller hand that took his and squeezed. Adam stopped mid-step, frowning. Gabi tugged Nigel’s hand.

“Come on, baby, you can do this,” she cooed. Adam seemed frozen in place; eyebrows furrowed as Nigel approached. Ahead of them, Harlan had reached Mr. Raki, leaning in to whisper. Mr. Raki’s head shot up, eyes wide as he stared at Nigel.

Fuck.

Nigel’s stomach rolled again. It would be a fucking miracle if he made it through today without puking on his fucking shoes.

Mr. Raki moved closer, Mamă’s urn clutched in his glove clad hands. He regarded Nigel, his mouth pressed into a firm line. “Nigel-”

He winced, it was the exact tone Mamă had used on him over and over again. Mr. Raki sighed, handing him the urn, pausing only to tuck a strand of hair behind Nigel’s ear. He turned to Gabi. “Hello, I’m Marcus Raki, Nigel’s-”

Mr. Raki frowned, his mouth trying to parse the right word. “I’m here for Nigel. This is my son, Adam, and uh…you’ve met Harlan.”

“Gabi Ibanescu!” Gabi’s voice sounded so cheerful and bright, Nigel clutched at the urn in his hands, the cold metal bit at his fingers. He wondered if there was any of his mother left in there at all.

“Ibanescu?” Adam’s voice, from somewhere behind them. Gabi turned, Nigel briefly considered stopping her, but just focused on the cold in his hands.

“Why don’t we start, huh?” Harlan said, clapping his hands. “It’s cold and we do have a lunch reservation.”

“Nigel?” Mr. Raki’s voice, soft next to his ear. “Do you want to start?”

Nigel shook his head, if he just stood here, just let the cold take him, maybe it would be OK.

“I’ll go.” Harlan rested a hand on Nigel’s shoulder and squeezed. “Ivona was a ray of sunshine. Whether she told stories about Romania or was teasing me about being a piss poor poker player, that lady had a glow about her. Not a mean bone in her body and I think we’re all better for having known her.”

Harlan cleared his throat, subtly wiping at his eyes. He took the urn from Nigel’s hands and opened it. He scooped a handful of ashes from the bag inside and tossed them to the wind.

Mr. Raki took a deep breath. “Trusting someone with Adam was always difficult for me, but I knew the second I saw Ivona that she’d take care of my boy. After Adam’s mom…well, it was just nice to have someone to talk to, someone who I knew loved our boys as much as I did. She had such a big heart, such a sweet spirit, I-”

His voice broke and the next breath shook. “I promise I’ll look after them, Ivona.”

Nigel closed his eyes, listening to the sound of his Mamă being scattered. 

“Ivona always seemed like a nice lady.” Gabi squeezed his hand. “She made really good food when we all had dinner. She seemed sweet.”

“Do you want to…”

“Oh, uh…no. No thank you.” Nigel heard the Urn being passed. 

“Mamă was one of the kindest people I knew,” Adam sounded closer than Nigel remembered him being, but he couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes. The wind had picked up, and Nigel felt that numb sensation wash over him again. “She always understood when I told her I didn’t like her food. She didn’t take offense when she made me the scarf that was itchy. She told me she was proud that I wanted to hang it from my bed post instead of wear it, remember?”

Mr. Raki chuckled. Nigel could picture him laughing. His Mamă hadn’t even blinked when Adam told her he wouldn’t wear the scarf. She thanked him for telling her it was pretty and offered him some cookies — the plain sugar cookies shaped like reindeer with no sprinkles, the only ones he ever ate.

Nigel opened his eyes, he watched Adam’s gloved fingers drum on the urn. The dull _thump thump thump _made Nigel flinch. He could see Mamă’s feet jolting on the floor.

“She was part of my day every day until this year. She knew my schedule and she never scolded me or got upset when — when I felt upset. She was very smart, even though she didn’t read English as well as Romanian. She helped me when I asked her about feelings, and told me I should follow my heart. She didn’t mean it literally, she wanted me to ask for the things I wanted,” Adam’s eyes flicked up, glancing over Nigel’s face. “-even if I couldn’t get them. She wanted me to be brave. She was a good Mamă, the only one I ever knew, and even if she wasn’t mine, she- she acted like a mom to me, I think. I appreciated that, because I know that’s hard, that I can be hard. She was a very good lady, and I’ll miss her.” 

Adam took a small handful of ashes and spread them to the wind. He handed the urn to Nigel with a small smile before taking a handkerchief from his father’s extended hand and cleaning off his gloves.

Nigel stared into the cavern of the urn. Grey lumps of ash and crinkling plastic — it wasn’t right. He tried to picture Mamă’s smile, but he couldn’t remember if her right or left cheek lifted more when she grinned. It ate at him, not being able to recall the exact lift of that smile.

“Mamă did have a big heart,” Nigel mumbled to the ashes. “No matter how bad I was, how fucking stupid…she always — she never gave up. She always b-believed if she could love me enough, I’d be…I’d be-I never wanted to disappoint her, but I alway-”

“Nigel,” He closed his eyes, and shook his head against Mr. Raki’s voice — he couldn’t look at that grey lump anymore. His tears stung in the wind as he tried to breathe.

“I think…maybe I finally broke her heart too many times. She couldn’t — I-” Nigel panted, his ears started ringing again. He could hear a _thump_ every time he tried to draw air. “I think it’s good I’m throwing her out. She can, she can finally g-get away fro-from me. She sh-shouldn’t have t-to st-sta-”

Nigel pitched forward. He had the distant thought that the urn had left his hands, but he didn’t hear it hit the ground. He couldn’t even give Mamă her freedom properly, he’d sunk her into the dirt, just like she’d asked him not to. Nigel could feel the wind on his face, but there seemed to be no air.

Something caught him before he hit the ground, he clung to it, not knowing what else to do.

“Nigel, Nigel find your breath.” Adam whispered against his ear. Strong arms held him fast as he gasped; it was the warmest he’d felt in weeks. He let his own arms band around Adam’s waist, the smaller man holding him up. “We don’t have to spread all the ashes.”

Nigel started gulping in air, nose buried in Adam’s collar. The scent of Adam filled his lungs as his inhaled slowed. Adam’s fingers found Nigel’s hair. Had he taken off his gloves?

“A-Adam, Adam, I-”

“_Shhhhh_, we can talk later.” Those hands tracked familiar patterns through his hair. “Don’t worry about Mamă, Dad caught her. Just take deep breaths.”

Nigel nodded into Adam’s neck. His knees held him now, he could feel his feet finding their way back under him.

“Thank you, I’ve got it now.” Smaller fingers pulled at Nigel and he gasped when a wave of frigid air hit his open coat. He could smell Gabi now, as she stepped into his space, drowning out Adam. He wanted to move back, to pull away, but Gabi held him fast, murmuring that he needed to calm down. He let his wife stroke his back while he watched Adam fiddle with his glove before slipping it back on.

“I think we should get you home,” Gabi soothed, pushing Nigel to stand slightly. “I’m sorry about lunch, but I don’t think he’s in any state-”

“We don’t mind if he’s-”

“I think this is for the best.” Gabi cut Mr. Raki off with a smile, slipping her arm around Nigel’s waist. “Maybe in a few days you could all come to our place for a wedding brunch? Or dinner? We could celebrate then.”

Adam’s breath caught and Nigel felt pins and needles shoot through his body. “Wedding?”

“I’m sorry, we should go.” Nigel let Gabi lead him away. He could feel Adam’s gaze on his back with the wind. He allowed himself to be deposited in a cab, blinking when he felt cool hands on his face, running through his hair.

The fingers felt wrong.

“We just need to get you warm,” Gabi cooed. “Get some soup in you and a nice blanket, you’ll be OK, baby.”

Nigel nodded, trying to remember where he’d left the handle of vodka.

* * *

Taking another swig of vodka, Nigel stared up at the stars on his ceiling. Some of them were peeling and Gabi had asked him a few times if they could come down. His eyes traced the lines of Ursa Major and Minor, the familiar swoop as the two danced around each other. He blinked slowly, his brain swimming and comfortably numb.

Gabi had told him to change and shower while she got groceries, and he was just about to stumble out of his clothes when he heard the tapping.

Nigel swung the door open with a boozy smile. “You forget your key, Gabi?”

Adam blinked at him, his eyes worriedly sweeping over Nigel. “You’re married.”

Nigel nodded; the whole world shook with his head.

“Mamă died and you got married.” Adam’s voice was soft and monotone, but Nigel could see the hurt in the curl of his mouth, hear it in the tapping of his fingers. He could only nod again.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Adam stepped forward and Nigel took an unsteady step back, allowing him into the apartment.

“I did.”

Adam huffed and turned around. “You called me at Lucas’ house, but you didn’t tell me.”

Nigel sneered at the mention of Lucas. “You were busy. How’s Lucas? I’m surprised he didn’t come back with y-”

“I don’t want to yell.” Adam said, mouth thinning. He looked like his dad when he made that face. The thought made Nigel smile. Adam frowned harder at that. “You’re drunk.”

Nigel shrugged and offered a helpless grin. “My Mamă’s dead.”

“I know,” Adam took a step forward, but paused, thinking better of the movement. He turned and picked Nigel’s jacket off the sofa. He brushed the wrinkles out of the material and hung it on the hook by the door. Mamă had always hated it when he left his clothes on the couch. She wasn’t even dead a month before Nigel was fucking up their home. “I wish you’d come to lunch.”

“Why?”

“Because you were sad and I wanted to be with you.” Nigel ran a hand through his hair, he wanted more vodka. He didn’t want to look at Adam’s hurt eyes anymore. “I, uh, I also want to meet your wife.”

“What?”

Adam looked down, his arms wrapped around himself before he looked back up. “I- I want to meet Gabi. We c-could maybe get dinner, when you’re sober.”

Nigel felt hot shame coiling in his stomach. He glared at his shoes. “You going to bring your Lucas with you? We could go on a double date.”

“I’m not with Lucas anymore.” Nigel leaned against the living room wall; he couldn’t possibly stand.

“What?”

“He wasn’t what I wanted.”

“You wanted him enough when you dropped the fucking phone. Left me on the fucking floor so he could-.” Nigel could hear Mamă’s voice pleading with him, telling him to think before he destroyed things. He shook his head.

“He was there,” Adam whispered. “You weren’t.”

“I’m fucking glad you replaced me with fucking Lucas the second I got inconvenient for you, gorgeous.”

“I don’t want to fight!” Nigel looked up at the tone, Adam’s eyes were wet. He wouldn’t look at Nigel. “Why are you always so upset now?”

“My fucking Mamă died and my best friend didn’t call me-”

“You said not to call you!”

Nigel had. He had acted like a fucking child to hurt Adam and he had sworn he’d never do that. He’d gone his whole miserable life without hurting Adam, but now…what the fuck was he doing? “I-”

Adam stepped closer, Nigel could see he was gripping himself tighter around the middle, rocking slightly when he was nearer to Nigel. “I miss you. And I know- I know you don’t want what I want, but I’m still your friend. I want to meet your wife. I want- I want you to tell me when Mamă dies or to call me when you’re upset.”

Nigel wanted to reach out, wanted to draw Adam into his arms and beg forgiveness. But Adam’s shoulders had hunched, he was huddled away from Nigel, protecting himself from Nigel. He’d seen Adam do it dozens of times to dozens of people, but he’d never had to shield himself from Nigel. Bile swam bitter and slimy in the back of Nigel’s throat at the sight. “Adam-”

“Why don’t you ever call me?” Adam’s eyes flicked over Nigel’s face. He felt himself tapping Adam’s rhythm on his thigh, hoping Adam’s posture would loosen and he’d start tapping too. “Why don’t you tell me when you’re upset? I just- I want to-”

“I don’t want to bother you, Adam,” Nigel could hear the emotion in his voice, but he knew Adam wouldn’t. He ran a hand through his hair. His Mamă was dead and his best fucking friend was hurt – he couldn’t stop fucking up. The least he could do was send Adam back to school knowing that he was the most important thing in Nigel’s life. “You’ve got shit to do. I’m not going to annoy you with every bit of shit in my day.”

“Oh.” It was such a soft little noise, almost a breath. Adam had frozen in place, then began to shake. “We’re not friends.”

“Of course we’re friends,” Nigel lunged for him then, posture be damned. He grabbed onto Adam’s biceps trying to pull him in. “We’re best fucking friends.”

Adam yanked out of Nigel’s grip with such force he stumbled back. “A best friend would know when his friend’s mother died. A best friend would know why you’re so sad all the time. A best friend wouldn’t think he’s the reason you’re always so angry.”

“Adam, gorgeous, you’re not-” 

Adam shook his head, backing up when Nigel reached out again. “I don’t think I’m good for you. I think…I think I hurt you.”

“What? No-”

Adam’s breathing was going uneven, but so was Nigel’s. “I’m s-sorry, Nigel.”

“Gorgeous, please-” Nigel made one last grab, but Adam moved out of the way, Nigel’s fingers just brushing the edge of Adam’s coat. He heard his best friend scramble out the door, breath hitching. He started to run after him, but it occurred to Nigel at the threshold that he’d be making things worse. He’d promised himself a long time ago he wouldn’t make things worse for Adam, and he wouldn’t do that now.

He had finally gotten Adam free of him. Nigel wouldn’t have to worry about dragging him down anymore. So why couldn’t he breathe?

Nigel wasn’t sure when Gabi came home; it could have been minutes or hours later. She dropped the grocery bags and pulled Nigel into her arms, brushing away his tears and cooing at him to stop sobbing.

“_Shhhh, shhhh_, baby, she was suffering and now she’s not.” Gabi ran her fingers through Nigel’s tangled hair. “It’s for the best, OK? I promise it’s for the best.”

"For the best,” Nigel agreed into her shoulder. He felt himself go numb in her arms. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Next Up:**  
A look at married life with Nigel and Gabi, and other dumpster fires.


	12. College - Part 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nigel finds a new career path and continues to make monumentally terrible choices.

Adam went back to California and life, such as it was, went on. Nigel found he didn’t mind married life — it was fun getting drunk with someone and dancing around the trashed apartment.

Gabi and Nigel took the stars down together. He couldn’t sleep under them anymore. He would lie awake for long hours, Ursa Major and Minor glowing too bright to let him rest. He would glare up at the stars, eyes dry and stomach in knots, listening to his wife breathe. When they scraped away the stars, Nigel couldn’t quite look as Ursa Minor was chipped away, his gut souring when Gabi started talking about a nice bright yellow for the room.

Gabi went back to work a week after they got married. She’d found a gig playing cello in Vox Filum, which was a pretentious fucking name for a band that gigged at weddings and the occasional café, but she seemed happy and was making decent money, so who the fuck was he to complain?

She got mad when he would turn up to her café jobs on Tuesdays drunk, but he’d figured out pretty quickly if he was a good boy and sat by the window, he couldn’t get in too much trouble. Nigel would close his eyes and let the alcohol and music wash over him. It was in those moments that he loved Gabi best; the 10 minutes each day when it didn’t feel like he was drowning.

Nigel stumbled back to work hungover and miserable, but Reggie slipped him a joint as a mourning gift, and that helped him make it through his first shift. He found, with a little concentration, he could do most things behind the bar after a hit or two on a joint — hell, he was even friendlier to the college twats that wanted to know the origins of bottom-shelf whiskey and if they had stones instead of ice for the glasses.

The problems only came when Nigel got busy at the bar, or things got too slow, or if some fuck walked into the bar with a NASA t-shirt. Then, he’d have to take a few shots — just to make sure his hands were steady on the pour. He’d go home buzzed, fall into bed with his gorgeous fucking wife, and not think about the little glowing constellations that seemed to pop up whenever he closed his eyes.

One night, halfway through the late rush, Nigel heard the tapping. An odd little rhythm, just two beats off the one that he still patted on his own thighs when he was feeling tense. It was so close, so achingly familiar, but wrong, just the same.

He’d asked the kid to stop, hell, he’d even taken a few more shots just to dull the sound of that frantic but not-quite-right _tap tap t-tap_. But the fucking guy just kept tapping. Nigel had hauled him over the bar and shaken the shit out of him before the Reggie had broken the altercation up.

Apparently, scaring the shit out of your customers was bad business because Nigel was out of a job before his shift had ended. He couldn’t go home, not yet — Gabi would be there, and he was too fucking sober to deal with her anger over him fucking up. He sat in the alley, swigging from a nicked bottle of Bowmore and looking at Adam’s number on his phone, finger hovering over the dial icon.

“You sure you don’t want to be a bouncer?” Nigel shoved his phone in his pocket, squinting as Reggie came into focus. “You fucked up that guy pretty good.”

“I barely fucking touched him,” Nigel snarled, there was maybe a drop of blood on his sleeve, at most.

Reggie held up his hands. “Alright man, alright.”

The bigger man dug into his shirt pocket and pulled out a couple of tabs and tossed them to Nigel. “Peace offering.”

He caught them midair and examined the tabs. Molly. Nigel nodded, Gabi would be happy, she loved taking a hit and dancing under club lights. The shit just gave Nigel a headache.

Reggie leaned next to Nigel. He lit a joint, took a drag and passed it down. “So, what now?”

“I go home and Gabi yells at me about my temper, I guess.”

Reggie huffed a laugh. “Sucks, man. But it doesn’t have to.”

Nigel squinted, taking another pull and letting his lungs fill with smoke. He passed Reggie the bottle of whiskey. “What are you saying?”

“Ever slung before?”

Nigel snorted. “It’s been a while.”

If he closed his eyes, he could see Mamă’s face, the look of horror she had when she found the brick behind his bed. He took another hit.

“Look, we need someone to work Lower Manhattan — pot mostly, some coke and pills.” Reggie passed the bottle back to Nigel, grabbed the joint. “I know you can handle yourself, you’re smart enough not to fuck with the money, and you’ll scare the fuck out of those little shits in Goddard Hall.”

“College kids?”

Reggie shrugged. “Mostly.”

“Why don’t you take it, stop working at the club?”

“I like the club, customers come to me, I sell enough hits in one night to keep me golden all week.” Reggie smiled. “Plus, I fucking hate running around to dorms like a fucking Grub Hub asshole.”

Nigel chewed on his lip. Mamă would hate this — so would Adam. But neither of them were around to care anymore. “Sure, man, where do I get my supply?”

* * *

Gabi was giggling, high off her ass and running her fingers along the sofa. “So, it’s more money?”

Nigel nodded. He opened a pack of Oreos, glaring at the cookie when his chest lurched painfully.

Gabi snatched the cookie from him and grinned, stuffing it in her mouth. “And it’s not serious shit, right? Like, you’d be safe? You’re just selling to those Washington Square assholes?”

“Fucking college students, I promise.”

“You sure you don’t want to just get another job?”

Nigel shrugged. “Money’s better. Hours are better. Fuck bar tending.”

Gabbi trailed a hand in front of her eyes, pupils dilated. “Can we get a better place?”

“We can get whatever you fucking want.” Nigel ran a hand along her bare thigh; his head was ringing, but he smiled when she shivered. He took another cookie.

_Saliva is exchanged in some social interactions, like kissing._

Nigel shook his head, twisting the cookie apart and licking the cream from one side. He offered it to Gabi who batted his hand away.

“Gross, how high are you?”

Popping the cookie into his mouth, Nigel frowned at the taste. Maybe he’d grown out of liking Oreos. He tossed the other half of the cookie on the table.

Gabi sprang up, straddling Nigel. The movements were too fast for Nigel’s blown pupils, he blinked trying to right his vision. When he felt her grind on his dick, Nigel let his head fall back — maybe it didn’t matter if he could see anymore.

“OK, let’s do this!” She started laughing, Nigel smiled at her. He could hear a small voice in his head, soft and male. “We’ll be like Bonnie and Clyde!”

_Bonnie and Clyde died horribly_ it said, matter-of-factly.

Something ached deep in Nigel’s chest. He groped for the nearly empty bottle of Bowmore and took a swig.

* * *

Nigel figured out he was a fucking prodigy six months into his new career. It turned out that looking scary and having a foreign accent were bonuses in the world of dealing. He just had to curl a lip and his purple-haired dealers in Greenwich would fucking piss themselves.

His money was always right, he never had a problem with his people, and Gabi didn’t fucking care if he came home high and stinking of perfume at the new place in The Eugene. Apparently, pink fucking poofs on a roof deck and a luxury gym were enough to keep his darling wife off his back.

Mr. Raki was a different story. He’d visited the apartment once, dropped off some sort of fern that had died in a month, and never been back. He still called Nigel all the time. Nigel had stopped answering, but the calls and texts still came. He’d check them sometimes, when he was waiting at the stash house.

_Nigel? __Nigel, we miss you at poker night. Can you — can you just text me? Let me know you’re still — Nigel, you’re so much more than this, son. I can help-_

Nigel deleted his messages, called his building and told them not to let Marcus Raki in should he come back.

* * *

They threw parties in their new home. Gabi dancing with her friends, Nigel glowering at the crowd until the pills hit and he was too fucking high to keep his eyes open anymore. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d had dinner together, just them — maybe it didn’t matter.

Nigel discovered not much mattered when he got himself high enough. Once he hit that level, he’d just float — no sounds of Mamă sobbing ringing in his ears, no soft fingers tapping in frustration, even the stars he saw whenever he closed his eyes would fade. Oblivion didn’t seem that bad, it was peaceful.

On Tuesdays, Nigel started skipping Gabi’s café gigs. She was never happy to see him, and he didn’t want to fucking hear it. Instead, he’d go to Hayden for the late show, stare up at the stars until he found Ursa Major and Minor, smiling as he watched the big dipper chase the little dipper around the sky. Later, he’d wander around Central Park, drinking from a paper bag and glaring at the joggers. He’d find his bench — their bench — and sit. If he was lucky, sometimes the raccoons would scurry out while he sat there. He’d smile to himself, thinking that they didn’t belong as he drank from his bag.

Gabi stopped asking where he went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Next Up:**  
Time jump, we're out of the college years! Tattoos, sex with a familiar face, and other signs that Nigel isn't doing so well.


	13. Grad School - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nigel sees a ghost, then almost becomes one.

Nigel pressed his nails into the stress ball, listening as the needle by his ear whirred. He could smell the inks and antiseptic. It turned his stomach — that, or maybe the molly had been a bad idea. Reggie had told him the hit would make him feel euphoric. So far, it only made the walls look liquid and his jaw clench. After four fucking years, Nigel should know better than to trust Reggie’s advice, but Nigel was nothing if not a consistent fuck up.

The tattoo machine ran along his neck, a thousand little stings making his teeth ache.

“This is gonna look awesome, man,” The tattooist said as he worked away. “Is it for someone special?”

“It’s for his girl, right?” Reggie leaned in, grinning at the work.

Nigel had said it was for the love of his life, so he could see why Reggie thought it was for Gabi. Nigel let his eyes fall closed, picturing blue eyes that were almost constantly in motion. He hadn’t seen them personally in years, but he was sure they’d still make his heart stop just the way they had when he was 10. He grunted.

“She’s gonna flip.” The tattooist offered him a smile.

“Probably,” He tried to remember the last time he saw Gabi. Maybe three days ago at that party in Chelsea?

“OK, man, you’re done.” Nigel curled his lip as he felt the man wipe something gooey on his neck. “Wanna check it out?”

Nigel nodded, grabbing the mirror he was handed and angling it down. On his neck was the big and little dipper, bracketing each other the way they had on his bedroom ceiling for years. He smiled at the image.

“Looks fucking badass, man.”

“Yeah,” Nigel whispered, his throat stinging. “Gorgeous.”

* * *

Nigel didn’t go home. There really wasn’t a point. Vox Filum had blown up recently; Gabi was always out of town at a gig, or rehearsing for a gig, or just not…home. He’d stopped trying to keep up with her schedule, he just bumped into her in the kitchen some afternoons, or maybe saw her at a party.

It was fine. Better than fine, actually. It meant she’d stopped bitching at him when he came home stinking of women and stained with lipstick and nail marks. He missed when they’d get high on the couch together and watch cartoons. Nigel couldn’t remember the last time he heard her laugh.

Nigel grabbed a red solo cup of whatever the fuck and gulped it down. House parties were more fun than being married anyway. Especially the ones near Union Square, where the art kids all piled into an expensive apartment, imbuing the walls with pot smoke and splattered paint. Fucking landlords must be nuts renting to these college fucks.

“Nigel?” Nigel didn’t bother to turn. He was always popular at these parties because most of the little shits knew he was holding.

“What do you need?” He took another gulp from his cup — _what the fuck kind of hooch had they mixed to get it to taste like cough syrup?_

“I…Nigel, don’t you remember me?”

He turned and blinked. He couldn’t remember all the girls he’d pulled into bathrooms or fucked with a nose full of coke — but something about the dainty little brunette rang a bell. She smiled at him, not a real smile, just a thin twist of the mouth that didn’t reach her eyes.

His lip curled. “Beth.”

“Still say my name with that cute little lisp, huh?” She took a half step back when Nigel bared his teeth. “Good to see you.”

He glared. She looked at him for a moment before tilting her head. “You hear from Adam?”

He checked Berkeley’s Space Science Lab page the second he woke up, scrolling through their blogs and projects, scouring the pictures for brown curls. He’d seen Adam twice in the background of videos for the ICON, and he’d spent the better part of two weeks reading up on the satellite program. He downloaded the video where Adam spoke about studying the ionosphere for 27 seconds. He watched it when he was feeling low.

“No.” The response made Beth smile, brighter and wider this time.

“Oh, well, guess you can’t hold on to crushes forever.”

“What the fuck does that-”

“He’s working on some telescope now. I saw him over Christmas with his dad. He’s excited about it.”

“It’s a satellite.”

Beth’s eyes flashed. “Oh, that’s sweet, you keep track of him.”

Nigel finished his cup of cough syrupy alcohol. He would not catch a charge for putting his fist through this bitch’s face. “Shouldn’t you have graduated by now?”

“I-” Her face scrunched. She crossed her arms and looked at Nigel like a bug. “I was on a sabbatical.”

“From what?” Nigel looked around. “House parties?”

“Look, sometimes, you have to take a semester to refocus…” Beth gathered herself, studying him. “You’d have to go to college to understand.”

Nigel raised an eyebrow. “I understand I’ve sold blow to kids that managed to graduate in four years.”

“Glad you finally found something you were good at.” She laughed. “I mean, I think we all knew where you were-”

“If you don’t get the fuck out of my face right now, they’ll find pieces of you in the East River.”

“Typical Nigel. Have fun dealing to college kids.” Beth turned and headed toward the door.

“Good luck finally getting a degree, you cunt!” Nigel moved back to the table full of disgusting cups. He might as well get fucked up, puke in a dirty bathroom.

“Wow, was that your ex?”

“Fuck off, I’m not selling tonight.”

“I’m not buying.”

Nigel turned and stopped short. The kid could have been Adam’s fucking twin. The hair was all wrong, too long, too fluffy, but the eyes…Christ the fucking eyes.

“You OK?”

“Wh-yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” Nigel tightened his grip on his cup, to keep from doing something stupid like touching this boy. If he cut his hair, shaved off the weird little patches of scruff along his jaw and lip — his chest lurched. His knees threatened to buckle under the weight of the doppelganger’s stare. “You…you live here?”

“Yeah, I’ve got the room upstairs, I’m-” But it didn’t fucking matter who he was. The voice was wrong, the stare too steady, it wasn’t Adam, but fuck it was close enough.

“You want to show me that room, gorgeous?”

The kid smiled, it was broader, more predatory than Adam’s guileless expression, he didn’t like it on his face. “Gorgeous, huh?”

Nigel downed the rest of his drink and tossed the cup away. Not his gorgeous, no, but close…so fucking close. “What’s wrong with gorgeous?”

“Nothing, I like it.” The guy extended his hand, Nigel took it. The grip was wrong too, this whole fucking thing was wrong. But Nigel just let himself float, pulled along in the sea of alcohol and pills that had become his day-to-day. It didn’t matter if he was adrift. He hadn’t had an anchor in years.

* * *

Clumsy fingers yanking on his chest hair tugged Nigel back to consciousness. His tongue was thick and heavy in his mouth, his whole body ached. He needed water, maybe a couple fucking bottles of aspirin. He needed to get this naked person off of him.

Nigel batted at the hand on his chest. He heard a groan of protest, but it finally went away. After a few deep breaths that reminded him of just how fucking miserable life was sober, Nigel forced himself to sit. He grimaced at the claw marks on his arms. There’d be no hiding those or the bite marks on his shoulders.

Didn’t matter, Gabi wouldn’t ask.

When the world stopped spinning and Nigel’s eyes adjusted to the unreasonable glare of the sun, he stood, searching for wherever the fuck he’d left his pants. He couldn’t find his boxers, but fuck it — he’d shoved his bare cock into worse things. Once he’d stumbled into his pants, he dug around the back pocket until he fished out a pack of cigarettes. Lighting one, Nigel took a deep pull, letting the nicotine coat his lungs and will his brain back to life. His gun was on the floor, half hidden under the desk. Fuck, he had to be more careful. Nigel grabbed it and shoved it into the small of his back, tucking it in his waist band.

The sanitary wrap on his tattoo was peeling, and Nigel grimaced as he tried to press the edges back to his skin. The last fucking thing he needed was an infection.

On his search for his shirt and jacket, Nigel found some sketches on the desk. They weren’t bad, really.

“You like them?”

Nigel glanced over his shoulder to the bed. In daylight, he didn’t look as much like Adam. The features were all there, but none of the soul. He didn’t want Adam’s shell. He wanted…fuck, it didn’t matter what he fucking wanted anymore, he knew what he had. “They’re good. You, uh, you like dogs?”

“Wolves. I’m doing a graphic-”

“That’s great gorgeous, you seen my shirt?” The boy frowned slightly, but reached toward the window, where Nigel’s shirt was hanging, haphazardly tangled with a blind. “Thanks.”

“You got any more blow?” The kid watched as Nigel buttoned his shirt.

Nigel chuckled, pulling his jacket off the chair near the bed and digging in the pocket. He tossed the boy a joint. “Here — only addicts do blow before noon.”

The boy smiled, that beautiful not-quite-right smile, and lit the joint. “I’ll try to remember that.”

Nigel reached forward and ruffled his hair. If he closed his eyes… “Be good, darling.”

“I will.” Nigel walked to the door. “Hey, uh, that accent…I was wondering all night — where are you from?”

“Bucharest.”

The kid smiled. “There more like you in Bucharest?”

“I’m a dime a dozen there. Streets are filled with nothing but me.” Nigel flashed a smile, wide and toothy. “And we’d all eat you alive.”

The kid laughed and Nigel took it as his chance to leave.

* * *

Nigel was more fucked up than he thought. He took the wrong train and somehow ended up in Times Square. By the time he found a taxi, he’d popped a Quaalude just to keep his head from exploding. Another cigarette helped. When the cabbie complained Nigel cracked a window and glared at the man, daring him to say anything else.

He tapped the bandage on his neck, the little jolts of pain keeping him from falling asleep in the cab. When they arrived, he tossed a fifty through the window and wandered toward home.

The doorman knew better than to question his cigarette.

It took three tries to figured out how to put the fucking key in the fucking lock. Nigel fell through the apartment door. The place was a wreck, but it always fucking was. There was old takeout on the counter, lipstick smeared wine glasses by the sink. Christ, they needed a maid.

“Gabi?” Nigel rubbed his face. The lude was making him slow. “Gabi!”

There was movement in the bedroom, and the sound of a male voice.

The fuck?

Pulling his gun, Nigel slammed open the door, just loud enough to do his own head in as he watched a naked man fall backwards into bed with his very naked wife.

“WHO THE FUCK IS THIS?”

Gabi laughed, the sound too loud in the small room. “I stopped caring about your whores, why should you care about mine?”

He didn’t. But Nigel knew he should. He should fucking kill him, kill her, he should be a man. A husband would…be angry? Be upset, at least. A husband wouldn’t be thinking about his best friend from third grade every fucking day. Nigel shook his head, trying to clear it. He was a husband. He was…

“Because I’m your fucking husband!” Gabi scoffed again. Nigel turned to the cowering man, he, at least, looked impressed. “Not was, my boy, fucking _is_. Til death do us fucking part. And if you doubt my commitment on that I suggest you keep lying in my bed with your limp fucking dick touching my sheets and I’ll show you.”

“I- _uh_\- s-sorry.” The guy flopped out of the bed, grabbing his pants. When he reached to put them on, Nigel lunged, gun waving. He felt oddly satisfied as he chased the man bare-assed from his apartment. Let that fuck get dressed in the elevator, give the guard a show.

There was a soft click behind him, Nigel turned, lowering his gun as he watched Gabi light a cigarette. She took a drag before slipping her satin nightie over her head. 

“Why do you bother with this shit?” Gabi sounded bored. “You don’t care.”

“I fucking care, Gabi.” He should. Nigel fucking knew he should.

“You care that someone else’s cock was in your bed, but you don’t give a shit who I fuck, or who you fuck for that matter.”

Something burned in Nigel, irrational and mean. Sure, he’d fucked around, but never in their bed. He wouldn’t disrespect her like that. “My lovely, faithful fucking wife, how many times-”

Gabi raised a brow, flicking ashes on the floor. “I’m not your wife, your fucking wife is in California.”

Nigel slammed a hand on the wall. “DON’T YOU FUCKING TALK ABOUT HI-”

Gabi charged up, snarling right back. His Gabi was always brave. “OR WHAT, NIGEL? YOU GONNA FUCK ME UP LIKE YOUR GODDAMN LACKEYS? YOU GONNA SHOOT ME?”

Nigel deflated, curling in on himself. He wouldn’t hit her, it would break his Mamă’s heart. He could hear the sounds of Mamă crying, distantly. He needed to get drunk. He never heard her when he was drunk. “I would nev-”

“You’re too fucking high to make me promises like that, Nigel.” He looked at Gabi, dark circles under dull blue eyes. Had he done this to her? He didn’t move to touch her, letting her walk back to her side of the bed. It had been empty for so long — why hadn’t he noticed?

“I love you, Gabi”

“No, you don’t.” She stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray on the nightstand. “You never fucking did. I just thought…maybe this time…I could change your mind.”

“Darling-”

She turned, there was something sparking in her eyes, but it made his stomach roil. “You think I don’t know about the box?”

Gabi stormed to Nigel’s dresser, yanking at the bottom drawer. He watched in horror as she freed his Adidas box, dumping clumps of Post Its on the floor. “YOU THINK THIS IS NORMAL? YOU THINK I DON’T FUCKING SEE YOU WHEN YOU HIDE AWAY AND READ THEM?”

She grabbed a few and started to tear at them. He lunged, holding her hands firm and pinning her to the ground. He smacked her wrist to the floor until she released the tattered scraps of paper. He moved off her, collecting the pieces of the Post Its and smoothing them on the floor. Maybe if he pressed them out, he could tape them —

Gabi hit him hard in the back of the head, his world shook for a moment, but that could have been the pills. “You care more about that fucking boy who left you, than…He didn’t want your worthless ass and I don’t either.”

Distantly he could hear the sound of the door slamming, but Nigel focused on the Post Its. If he focused really hard, maybe he could piece them back together. 

* * *

Life without Gabi wasn’t much different than life with Gabi. No one stocked the liquor cabinet, but Nigel had found a place that delivered, so he only flirted with sobriety for a few troubling hours. For the most part, Nigel couldn’t tell the difference in the last years of his marriage. He came home to an empty bed, woke up alone and hungover, and stumbled through the motions of reupping his dealers and counting cash.

He missed the music, though. He missed making her laugh.

But he missed a lot of things. Nigel was used to the loss.

Reggie was killed in April, shot by some fuck who was trying to take Lower Manhattan. Nigel had never had a great relationship with the suppliers, but he held shit together as best he could. He stopped taking pills, sticking solely to alcohol. He couldn’t afford to be off his tits at the reups anymore.

Drunk was better anyway. He was meaner when he was drunk, scarier to all the little shits that might be thinking about switching to the new crew that was popping up at Goddard Hall. Nigel had been forced to crack a few skulls, but for the most part, everyone on his team behaved. It was probably what kept him alive as long as it did.

It kept him alive until late August.

The funny part, though, at least to Nigel, was that when the blade came, it was still a surprise. He hadn’t expected it, hadn’t even felt it at first. Just a cold sensation, then the blood, so much fucking blood. Great gouts of it pouring from his side and soaking through his jeans.

He raised his gun, trying to shoot the lying fuck, but his hand was unsteady, his vision already starting to go with his blood. He got off two shots before he couldn’t hold the gun anymore. He dropped it. Useless fucking thing. Nigel stumbled toward the street, fingers digging into blood-slick flesh, trying to keep it together. Everything was fuzzy, and suddenly, Nigel’s adrift brain finally came to a dock.

He was going to die.

He was going to die in the street like the drug dealing dog his Mamă always worried he was. There was no way to fix this. No second chance. If he was lucky, he had another minute and a half of this miserable fucking existence.

Nigel let go of his wound, feeling the blood flow faster. Let it go, never did him any good anyway. With thick fingers, he fumbled in his pocket, grabbing his phone. Thank fuck he never changed his speed dial settings.

The phone range three times. Nigel waited for voicemail. He hoped Adam hadn’t changed the outgoing message.

_ Hello you’ve reached Adam Raki. I am unable to answer your call, but if you leave a message I will call you back…if I think your message requires a response. Uh…have a nice day…goodbye. _

“Nigel?”

Nigel let himself sink to the pavement. A woman screamed. He swatted at her — he couldn’t hear Adam.

“Nigel? Nigel, I hear screaming.”

“It’s OK, gorgeous. It’s all OK.” Nigel smiled into the phone. He could hear Adam fussing, there was more screaming.

“NIGEL! NIGEL I CAN’T HEAR YOU! NIGEL?”

Nigel’s head was heavy, he knew it was lolling to the side. He tried to say _I love you_, but his jaw was loose and hanging. He hoped Adam knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Next Up:**  
Nigel finds out getting stabbed might have been the easy part.


	14. Graduate School - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nigel gets some help off of rock bottom.

The beeps brought him back. Steady, terrible beeps — a heart monitor?

“Mamă? Mamă are you-” A strong hand settled on Nigel’s chest, keeping him still. His side felt like it was on fire. “Mamă, I-”

The hand rubbed softly on Nigel’s chest. “_Shhh_, Bibic, lay still. Lay still and rest for me.”

Nigel frowned at the voice, trying to open his eyes. He winced at the bright florescent light above him. “Tată?”

Mr. Raki’s blurry shadow fell over Nigel’s face. “Just rest, Nigel.”

So, he did.

* * *

The next time he woke up to the beeps, he remembered that Mamă was dead. He laid still, even the slightest shift sent a flare of pain up his side. He let his brain wander, the reup…there had been a knife.

A shadow passed back and forth across his face. Nigel let his head fall to the right, Mr. Raki was pacing, head ducked to a phone. “I already read you his vitals…they haven’t changed in 20 minutes. He’s stable. The doctors said _stable_. No, I didn’t ask what the medical definition of _stable_ meant, I just-”

Mr. Raki sighed, sitting in a chair at the end of the bed. He looked terrible. His clothes were wrinkled, his hair stuck up at odd angles, there was at least a few days of scruff on his chin. The man squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his thumb and forefinger into the sockets of his eyes before taking a deep breath and turning back to the phone. “You could come back, see him for yourself…Of course he wants to see you. He called you, son. I don’t think he’s still angr — Alright, Alright…His blood pressure? It’s 89 over fifty — no I told you, the doctors said he wasn’t in bradycardia anymore. Adam, it’s not going to be normal. He’s got to heal- His pulse ox? Uh….86. Yes, that is better than last time…”

Nigel let himself fade out; Mr. Raki sounded busy.

* * *

“I TOLD YOU WHAT HAPPENED!”

Nigel blinked. Mr. Raki was mad. He wondered what he’d done; Mr. Raki almost never yelled.

“Sir, we need a statement and some blood work-”

“Do you have a warrant?”

“Sir, if he was robbed like you said, the blood work would help us.”

“My son was stabbed and left for dead and you’re treating him like he’s the suspect!”

“Sir, Mr. Ibanescu isn’t your-”

“THAT IS MY SON LYING IN THAT BED, OFFICER.” Mr. Raki cleared his voice, took a deep breath. “He has no record, and a clean work history. And if you think I’m going to let you railroad him because you made an assumption about him-”

“Sir, the area he was found in is known for-”

“It’s New York, it’s all known for something! When my boy is awake and ready to give a statement, I’ll call the station and you can come down and get it.”

There was a long silence, then the sound of a man coughing. “Here’s our card, Mr. Raki, call us when he’s awake.”

Nigel listened to the officers leave. Mr. Raki sighed again before settling in the chair that had been moved to Nigel’s bedside. Nigel felt long fingers intertwine with his. He thought about being 10, and Mr. Raki insisting Nigel hold his hand as they all crossed the street.

“Don’t you smile at me, you little shit,” Mr. Raki muttered, squeezing Nigel’s hand. “We’re not out of this yet.”

* * *

Nigel was excited when the nurse told him they could take the catheter out — until she did it. Still, it meant he could shuffle around the ward without a bag of piss tethered to him. His side still hurt like a bitch, but at least he wasn’t stuck in that bed anymore. The doctor that came in during morning rounds to frown at him and scratch notes on his chart told Nigel walking around the ward was the best way to get himself released.

So, Nigel walked. He must have clocked miles making lazy loops of the Weill Cornell recovery ward, rolling his IV with him and smiling at the nurses.

In the mornings, Harlan would show up and march him around the ward. He’d talk to Nigel about a lawyer friend he had, and what he was and wasn’t to say when they scheduled an interview with the police. Nigel nodded along. None of it really mattered, if he didn’t end up with a charge this round, it was only a matter of time before he caught one.

In the evenings, Mr. Raki would show up and join Nigel for a few laps around the ward. They hadn’t talked much beyond Mr. Raki checking in on Nigel’s pain and reminding Nigel not to speak to the detective who occasionally showed up in Nigel’s room. Nigel glared at the scuffed floors. He wanted to apologize, wanted to beg forgiveness, wanted to ask if Adam was OK because he didn’t know where his phone had gone and he hadn’t been able to check Berkeley’s Space Science page to see any updates on ICON.

Instead, Nigel grumbled. “They said I can leave tomorrow.”

Mr. Raki nodded. “I heard.”

“I uh, I’ll call you when I-”

Mr. Raki’s hand grabbed the IV pole, stopping it. Nigel turned to see the older man frowning, his mouth in a thin little line. He looked so much like Adam when he was mad. “You’re coming home with me.”

“I’ve got a place, I can order-”

“I can’t watch you do this.” Mr. Raki sighed. He looked so tired. “You have to forgive yourself, you have to-”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Nigel counted the scuffs on the linoleum, anything to keep his eyes away from that expression.

“Nigel, you’ve got a chance. Harlan says we’re one interview from clearing the whole thing up and then — you just have to get clean to find a job-”

“I have a job.” Nigel’s side ached. He could hear his Mamă’s voice in his head, begging him not to do this. She always sounded like she was crying.

He needed a drink.

“It’ll kill him,” Mr. Raki murmured.

Nigel’s eyes shot up, the pain in his side moved up to his chest.

“It’ll kill me too,” Mr. Raki smiled sadly, reaching up to tuck a lock of hair behind Nigel’s ear. His eyes were watery and tired, Nigel couldn’t help but wonder if he was killing another parent. “But it’ll be hardest on him. He asks about you every time he calls. He’s sent me emails about rehabs and wound care and, Christ, even marriage counseling because he thinks you need it.”

Nigel shook his head, his eyes pricking.

“It’ll kill him, Nigel. Please, I can’t lose you both.”

Nigel pulled the IV from Mr. Raki’s hands. “I- what if I can’t?”

“What if you try?”

With a nod Nigel started walking again, swiping at his eyes with his free hand. “I don’t want to sleep in Adam’s bed.”

“I was thinking you’d stay with Harlan,” Mr. Raki fell into step beside him. “He, _uh_, he has some experience with these things.”

“I don’t want to go to meetings.”

“We’ll worry about that when we get to it, OK? For now, let’s worry about the things we can control.”

Nigel looked up. “Like what?”

“Well, your ass has been hanging out of your hospital gown for about 10 minutes,” Mr. Raki grinned. “You could fix that.”

Nigel jumped, flushing hot as he reached toward the back of his gown and felt skin instead of stiff cloth. He glared at Mr. Raki, who started to laugh as Nigel gathered the folds of fabric in a fist.

“It’s not fucking funny,” Nigel growled, but his shoulders started to shake as his laughter spilled forth.

“The hell it’s not,” Mr. Raki huffed. “That candy striper’s been following us for three laps, I think he’s in love.”

Nigel shoved at Mr. Raki, before feeling a breeze against his ass and gathering the cloth again.

* * *

“Do you swear this statement to be accurate, Mr. Ibanescu?” The cop was tapping his fingers on the table. The _thump thump thump_ made his throat feel dry.

The worst part about being sober was how fucking irritating everything was. The meds at the hospital had kept him steady, but now that he was home, Harlan said he’d have to rough it. And fuck, was it rough. The cop’s cologne was too strong, his fingers were tapping too loud, the fluorescents in the station were far too fucking bright. Fuck, he missed weed.

The cop cleared his throat, it was like sandpaper in Nigel’s ears. He opened his mouth to respond, but Harlan’s lawyer friend leaned forward.

“Mr. Ibanescu has provided you a verbal and written statement. If you spent as much time attempting to find his assailant as you do trying to-”

“The story doesn’t add up, what were you doing there-”

“My client has no criminal record, the blood sample you subpoenaed had no evidence of drugs, only alcohol, which you may know is legal for persons over the age of 21. You have no witnesses contradicting my client’s statement, and most importantly _officer_, you have no evidence linking him to the activities you claim happened in that warehouse-”

“His prints were on the gun we found-”

“Of course they were, he was struggling with his assailant.”

“And what, they just had a knife too?”

“I believe we outlined the fact that there were multiple assailants.”

“There's something going on here, I can smell it.”

“I would love to see a judge’s face if you used that as the basis of your case.” The lawyer sighed. “Are you charging him?”

“Not at this time.’

“Or anytime.” Gathering his files, the lawyer neatly placed them in his briefcase. “If you wish to waste our time any further, you have my office’s number. Do not harass my client any further unless you manage to find the men who mugged him.”

Nigel felt a tap on his shoulder. “Let’s leave the officers to it, shall we?”

He trailed after the lawyer, head pounding as they reached the lobby. Harlan and Mr. Raki were huddled together in the corner of the station, they stood when they saw him approach.

“Well?”

“He did great.” A hand clapped on Nigel’s shoulder, his brain shook. “You shouldn’t need me anymore.”

Harlan held a hand out. “Thank you, Leo.”

Mr. Raki was the next to shake his hand. “You’re sure we can’t pay you, Mr. Brauner?”

The lawyer shook his head.

“I owed Harlan.” He turned to Nigel. “But I only save you from this shit once, got it, kid?”

Nigel nodded. Mr. Brauner clapped him on the shoulder and walked away.

“Does everybody in this city owe you a favor?” Mr. Raki was pulling on Nigel’s arm, guiding him out of the station.

“You best be glad they do, Marcus.” Harlan took Nigel’s other arm. “Now let’s get him back home before he pukes on my shoes.”

Nigel nodded. He didn’t want to puke again.

* * *

The one nice thing about getting clean was it left little time to worry about anything else. Nigel spent most of his day hunkered over Harlan’s toilet, his side pulsing with pain every time he puked. When he could manage to keep his food down, he was freezing cold, shivering and sweating while sitting next to Harlan in the living room, wrapped in blankets.

He couldn’t sleep, the shivers got worse. Harlan kept giving him water, bits of bread and plain broth. Mr. Raki would visit, his face drawing tight with worry as he hovered over Harlan's shoulder. “Jesus, should we call a hospital?”

“He’s got the fever now. He’s just got to get through it.” Nigel shivered as cool fingers drew across his forehead. Harlan leaned closer, smiling down at him. “It’s the worst part, son, but it’ll be over soon.”

Nigel lurched, crawling toward the bathroom in a cocoon of sweaty blankets to puke again.

* * *

“Bibic?” Mamă reached out and held him. “You so sick, Nigel.”

He leaned into her arms. “I’m s-sorry.”

Nigel could feel the tears leaking out of him, his body still shivering with the fever.

“_Shhhh_, _shhh_, my baby,” Hands raked through Nigel’s hair. “You do this for your Mamă, huh? You be strong.”

Nigel dug his fingers into her back, she felt warm, for the first time in so long. He cried harder. “I- I don’t- I don’t know what to do.”

“Yes, you do.” The voice had changed. The arms holding him were too strong to be his mother. Nigel pulled back, choking on a sob when Adam smiled down at him. “You have to get better.”

_ Can he hear us at all?_

Nigel’s head whipped around, that sounded like Mr. Raki.

_This happened to Annie too. He’ll break out of it, Marcus, it’s almost over._

“Where-”

“Don’t worry about them right now.” Adam’s arms tightened around him, he could hear his Mamă humming in the back of his head. “Just stay with us a little while longer.”

* * *

Nigel woke up alone in his bed. He could have sworn…

He shook his head. Fuck, he was a mess. He kicked off the blankets wrapped around his body; they smelled of stale sweat and puke. He felt warm, but when he stood his stomach didn’t roil.

“Jesus H. You’re quite the sight.” Harlan was sitting on the sofa with a mug of coffee. Nigel moved to join him, but he held out a hand. “You go shower off and then you can sit on my sofa and drink my coffee.”

“I feel like shit.”

“You look like shit.” Harlan sipped from his mug. “But the fact that you’re talking to me and not just chattering your teeth like a clacker toy is a good sign. Clean up, I’ll make you something.”

Nigel nodded; a shower did sound good.

Thirty minutes later, Nigel’s hair dripped onto a plate of scrambled eggs. He reached for the Tabasco on the table, but Harlan stopped his hand. “Eat ‘em plain today. You don’t throw up, we’ll talk about spices tomorrow.”

Nigel forked the bland eggs into his mouth, they tasted like mush, but his stomach didn’t protest.

Harlan smiled at him. “Good.”

* * *

Nigel wandered about the living room in his clean track suit. Harlan had tossed him the clothes, saying he could have his usual duds back once the pockets had been checked. _Found a whole pharmacy in one pair of jeans, who in the world carries that many pills, Nigel? _

He picked up a picture, squinting at the people in it. Harlan and Mr. Raki — both younger, fewer worry lines and brighter smiles. They were with two women. One had bright blue eyes; eyes that Nigel dreamed of when his brain wasn’t swamped with booze and pills. He traced a finger over Adam’s mother’s face with a smile — they had the same ears, too. The other woman pressed into Harlan’s side, raising and eyebrow at the camera as she kissed his cheek.

“Happier times.” He hadn’t noticed Harlan walking up behind him. The older man smiled at the picture. “You and Annie would have gotten on like a house on fire. She always loved the stubborn type.”

Nigel snorted. “Must have, she married you.”

Harlan nodded, taking the picture from Nigel’s hands and carefully setting it back on the shelf. “She was sober for nearly 20 years, didn’t matter, damage was done to her ticker.”

“I’m s-”

“Don’t be sorry about something you didn’t do.” Harlan turned to Nigel. “You got plenty you did do to be sorry about. We had a good run. I wish it could have been longer, but I’m grateful for what I had.”

“You think I fucked up my heart?”

Harlan raised an eyebrow. “Medically? Probably a bit. You’re young, though.”

“How did Annie do it?” Nigel rubbed at the tattoo on his neck. “Get clean?”

“She didn’t like the meetings either. Didn’t like asking God for help.” Harlan grinned. “She used to say _no sense waiting on God when I can do it myself_.”

Nigel laughed. “I like that.”

“Good, because that’s your new motto, son.” Harlan clapped his hands. “Come on, we got dinner with Marcus and then we need to talk about the future.”

“The future?”

Harlan shrugged. “Now that you have one, we gotta start planning it.”

* * *

The future, as it turned out, was fucking exhausting. Mr. Raki and Harlan helped him put his apartment on the market. He didn’t want to deal with the stuff he’d acquired — stupid shit that a high boy found amusing. He put it all on Craigslist. He gave the proceeds to Harlan and Mr. Raki, since they were taking care of him. It was only a few grand, but fuck it, it was something.

The money in the bank he insisted on sending to Gabi. Mr. Raki had frowned, Harlan had argued that he should only send half, but Nigel considered it pain and suffering money — she’d earned it dealing with him. He thought about reaching out, giving her the check himself, but Harlan had said it was too soon in his recovery to chance big emotional confrontations.

Gabi responded to the check with divorce papers, sent to Harlan’s apartment. He didn’t even read them over before he signed them. She deserved to be free.

Nigel still wanted to drink, or at least smoke a joint or two. The world was loud without it — too bright, too fucking annoying. But it did feel good not be a useless fuck all day. He cleaned the house. He started looking for jobs — mostly shit waiting and kitchen work, but he stayed away from bars. He smoked cigarettes out the window of his bedroom so Harlan wouldn’t bitch about the smell seeping into his walls.

Poker nights had resumed at Harlan’s. There was no beer now, which Nigel felt shitty about, but he still won 9 out of 10 hands, even sober. Nigel would grin and laugh while the two older men tossed cards at him and called him a little cheating shit.

Overall, it was an ordinary, shitty life. But it was his. He remembered his days, he went to bed at night, and he hadn’t done anything he was truly ashamed of for weeks. But even as he dragged himself back to the land of the living, the best part of his day was always in the morning, when he borrowed Harlan’s computer to check on the ICON project. There was a new video with Adam in the background, he laughed at the 90-second mark. Nigel didn’t know why, and it hurt that he’d never know, but that seven-second laugh made Nigel want to keep trying.

* * *

Dirty water slopped over Nigel’s shoe. He cursed, resisting the urge to kick the mop bucket.

“You alright, there, Nigel?”

He ducked his head, shaking off his shoe and mopping up the mess. “Yeah, sorry, Judith.”

The woman watched him for another moment before going back to her office. He’d been working at The Silver Moon Bakery for a month. It was a long day, cleaning the kitchen and hauling in supplies, but he liked Judith and Georgia, and he came home smelling like bread instead of sweat and booze every day.

“Nigel?”

He looked up from his mopping. Judith smiled at him.

“You’ve done a great job, you know.”

“It’s just mopping.”

“Keeping my kitchen clean is important,” Judith said. “And you’ve proven yourself to be reliable. Here.”

She tossed a key in the air. Nigel caught it. “What-”

“I think you can start closing next week.”

“Really?”

She shook her head. “You gotta have more faith in yourself, sweetheart.”

Nigel looked at the key in his hand and smiled to himself.

* * *

Nigel made it all the way to April before he had what Harlan termed “a blip”. He’d been sober six months, Judith had taught him how to prep dough at the bakery, and he still beat the pants off Harlan and Mr. Raki every poker night. But his Mamă’s birthday was on Thursday, and he’d been thinking about it a lot.

It seemed unfair that she wouldn’t have another birthday and that Nigel had so many stretched out in front of him. He’d fucked up at every turn. It didn’t seem right to find peace when he’d never given her any.

He didn’t go home; his feet led him right by his subway station and over to the Tap a Keg bar. Nigel pulled out his phone, Harlan had told him to call if this happened. He knew he should.

He took a deep breath scrolled through his contacts. What would it hurt if he had one beer? Just one, so he wouldn’t think about Mamă, scattered to the winds.

He hit dial, his stomach churning.

“Hello you’ve reached Adam Raki. I am unable to answer your call, but if you leave a message I will call you back…if I think your message requires a response. Uh…have a nice day…goodbye.” The phone beeped. Nigel hung up. Stupid, this was fucking stupid and he should have never called.

He took a deep breath and turned away from the bar, brushing past a gaggle of pregnant women heading to the belly painting studio next door. He just had to get home, get through the week.

His phone rang.

Nigel blinked at the name on the caller ID. He really fucking shouldn’t…

“Hello?”

“Nigel?” Adam’s voice sounded frantic. “Nigel are you OK? Where are you? Are you bleeding? I’ll call-”

“Adam, ADAM!” He bit his lip, Christ, he missed that voice, even when it was tense. “I’m not hurt, OK?”

“Oh.” Nigel listened to Adam’s breathing, it evened faster than it used to. He smiled at that.

“Look, you don’t have to-”

“Why did you-”

They both stopped, Nigel huffed a laugh. “Go ahead, Adam.”

Adam made a funny little noise on the other end of the line, but after a beat he cleared his throat. “Why were you calling?”

_Because I’m a stupid fuck._

“Uh…I…” Nigel glanced around. “I just hit six months sober and I-”

“You hit that last week, on Saturday.”

Something shifted in Nigel’s chest, his heart beating a little faster. Adam knew, checked in on him, even when he wasn’t there. “Oh, well, I, uh…I just guess I wanted to tell you. Is that, uh…OK?”

Nigel cringed. Fuck, he was better at this high.

Adam breathed for a few seconds. Nigel started to think of an apology, something that included a promise he’d never call again. “Thank you, Nigel.”

“For what?”

“For telling me.”

“Anytime, g-_uh_-Adam.” Nigel cradled the phone between his ear and shoulder, pressing the sound of Adam close. “How’s the readouts on the ICON?”

“Oh! We’re getting excellent data! The launch was a success, and they’ve asked me if I’d like to transfer to a Mars project that’s-”

There was a soft tapping sound, Nigel pictured Adam drumming his fingers on his desk. “I’m not supposed to talk about that.”

“Oh, well, that’s OK.” Nigel checked his watch. “You’re probably still at work.”

“I am, and I shouldn’t take personal calls.”

Nigel nodded to himself. “Right…Look, uh, Adam…maybe I could call you again sometime?”

“No.”

Nigel froze. He thought about the Tap a Keg. He was only a block away; he could turn around now-

“I don’t like ‘sometime’, it’s a nebulous measurement people use when they’re not going to call you.” Adam hesitated; the tapping got louder. “C-could you call me Tuesday at 10 your time?”

Nigel frowned. “Isn’t that when you have dinner?”

“I moved dinner by a half an hour a year ago, to optimize my schedule.”

Nigel ducked his head, smiling at his shoes. Adam made his own schedules now, changed things for the better without anyone helping him. He was so proud he could fucking burst.

“Nigel?”

“Hmmmm?”

“W-will you?... Call, I mean.”

Nigel picked up his pace for the subway stop, grinning like a fool. “Yeah, Adam, I’ll call.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Next Up:**  
Nigel finds a new career path, and a slightly new dynamic with Adam.


	15. Graduate School - Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nigel learns to put himself first. Adam lets Nigel know where they stand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your utterly trash author has not responded to ANYONE this week. I had to rush to a Birds of Prey screening tonight and there was no way I was going to get the chapter up AND respond to people. I'll respond to comments tonight, I promise. I live for the comments, y'all, and I'm sorry I was slacking this week.

It was Friday, so Nigel knew vaguely that the eighth batch of dough he was currently pounding into submission was whole wheat challah, but what really mattered was his head. It was clear, for once, no longer adrift in the soothing wash of booze and pills. Unfortunately, that meant Nigel could feel every little repetitive motion strain and pull at his shoulders as he worked. But it also meant that when his mind wandered, it went to places he wanted to be.

He could see Mamă at the kitchen counter, silhouetted by puffs of flour every time she kneaded the cozonac dough. She would stop after a few minutes before looking over her shoulder at him and smiling.

“You want to save Mamă, bibic?” She’d step away and laugh as he eagerly rushed to the counter. The first few times he’d tried, he ended up punching at the dough, small fists smacking it flat.

“You can’t hit things good, Nigel. Be gentle.” Mamă would catch his hands, show him how to firmly move and fold the dough. “Patience, bibic. You use patience and love, you make something good.”

Nigel smiled to himself as he turned the dough and worked it again. He hoped he was making something good.

* * *

“I think it’s a fucking mistake.” Nigel huffed as he folded his laundry, phone tucked to his ear. He could hear Harlan’s shows on in the background, and the sound of soft snoring coming from the living room. Adam and Nigel had stuck to the Tuesday schedule for a week, but Adam had decreed that their conversations were too long. He suggested they call each other more frequently, so they wouldn’t have so much to say to each other. Nigel hadn’t objected. Calls Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday turned into nightly calls within two months.

“Why?” Adam clinked a glass, probably getting ready for dinner somewhere in California.

“Letting me prep the dough is one thing, but overseeing the bread bakes? I’ll fuck it up and then get fired.” Nigel opened a drawer and paused. There, tucked next to an Adidas shoebox full of Post Its, was a blue button-down shirt with wiener dogs on it, a size too small for Nigel. He put his t-shirts on top of it; that was a minefield for another day.

“Judith has faith in your abilities. I’m sure she wouldn’t give you the job if she didn’t think you were capable.”

Judith had pulled him aside before he left for the night. Asked him to come in early on Saturday and learn how to bake off the loaves for the day. It meant more responsibility, more pay, but all Nigel could see was a stack of blackened bread, still smoldering. “I’ll be fired by next Friday, you mark my fucking words.”

“You’re good at this,” Adam said softly. “I think you’ll be promoted to head baker before the end of the year.”

Nigel scoffed. “You’re nuts, gorgeous.”

There was a long pause, Nigel looked at the phone, held it closer to his ear. He could hear Adam breathing.

“Adam?”

“You haven’t called me gorgeous in a long time.”

There was something fragile hanging between them and Nigel was petrified he’d snap it. “OH, _uh_, I-”

“I missed it.” Nigel felt like the air had been punched out of him. He took a deep breath, in for ten and out for ten. He let his fingers tap out a rhythm on his thigh. Adam made a soft sound; Nigel could hear tapping on the other end of the phone, the same rhythm, the rhythm Nigel dreamed about. “What types of bread will you be baking?”

Nigel felt his shoulders ease down a bit. “Saturday? Apricot-Hazelnut Parisienne, Fig and Pepper, _uh_…Carrot-Walnut Health Bread…”

“Those sound terrible.”

“Well fuck you too, Adam.” Nigel laughed and flopped back on his clean bed. He grinned when he heard soft laughter in his ear. “See if I send you any goddamn bread."

"I don't want it." It was nice hearing Adam tease, knowing that a pair of dimples were cutting into his cheeks in California. 

"You never told me about the ICON readouts from yesterday…were you right?”

Nigel looked up at his ceiling as he listened to Adam. If he concentrated, he could picture little star stickers above his head.

* * *

Mr. Raki looked down at the bread on the table. “You made this?”

Nigel felt his shoulders rising to his ears, like he was 13 again. “Yeah.”

Mr. Raki’s face broke into a broad grin — Adam’s grin when something really pleased him. “This looks delicious, Nigel.”

“Looks, nothing, let’s break it open and eat it.” Harlan settled at the table next to Nigel, nudging him with his elbow. He grabbed the Apricot-Hazelnut Parisienne loaf and sliced a chunk off, taking a healthy bite. Nigel watched as Harlan chewed thoughtfully, making little pleased noises, before looking back at him. “You know how to make pretzels?”

Nigel shook his head. “No, but Judith told me she’d show me how to make tarts next month if I want.”

“Tarts, Marcus!” Harlan took another bite of bread. “Poker night’s gonna be fancy!”

Mr. Raki smiled, picking up a slice of bread and holding up his pinky finger. “We should start having teas.”

“Shut up,” Nigel muttered, his face burning even as his smile grew wide. He felt an arm loop around his shoulder a moment before he was pulled to Mr. Raki’s side.

“You did good, kid,” Mr. Raki whispered into Nigel’s hair. He felt a small press of lips to the crown of his head. “I’m proud of you. She would be too.”

Nigel leaned into Mr. Raki’s embrace. He grunted, not trusting his voice at the moment. Mr. Raki squeezed him harder, so Nigel figured he understood.

* * *

The smell was overwhelming — burnt cheese seeping out of overdone bread. Nigel cursed when the smoke alarm went off, slapping at the silence button as he opened a window. He was fanning the smoke with a baking tray when he heard Harlan lumber into the kitchen.

“You becoming a firebug now or something?”

“Fuck off!” Nigel threw the tray onto the counter and stormed downstairs, ignoring Harlan’s calls. He hated this fucking apartment, living like a kid with curfews and some old man watching him. He hated that he had to get up at the ass crack of dawn every fucking day of his miserable life to make dough. He hated that the second he tried to make anything himself he’d nearly burned down the fucking apartment building.

He’d watched his Mamă make Brânzoaică a thousand times; helped her fill them when he was little. But the one time he tried to make them himself, he’d fucked it all up. He’d read the recipe online six times. He’d prepped the dough and folded it so neatly…he didn’t understand what could have gone wrong. It was like Mamă had come and burnt them, her way of letting him know what a pathetic fucking son she’d raised.

Nigel had worked in a bakery for nearly 8 months and he couldn’t even make Mamă’s favorite treat. And now he’d yelled at Harlan, thrown shit around the apartment — he really was a worthless piece of fucking shit.

“What can I get ya?”

Nigel blinked. When the fuck had he walked into a bar? The bartender watched him, eyebrows raising when Nigel didn’t answer.

“_Uh_…vodka, double with some soda.” Nigel felt the shame coiling in his stomach, laying heavy and slimy in his gut when the bartender nodded. It would be a year in a month. A whole fucking year and he just- “WAIT! _Uh_…just the soda water, please, and some lime.”

The bartender narrowed his eyes for a minute before nodding and filling a glass with club soda and a lime wedge. He sat the drink in front of Nigel with a half-smile before wandering down the bar. Nigel stared into his drink, watching the bubbles fizz and pop around the wedge of lime. What a sorry twat he’d become, drinking club soda at a bar.

A hand landed on Nigel’s shoulder, squeezing lightly. Nigel didn’t turn, just kept staring down at his drink as Harlan settled onto the stool next to him. “How long you been there?”

“Long enough.”

“I almost-”

“But you didn’t.”

“Still want to.”

Harlan snorted. “You always will, son. It’s easier when you’re too drunk to feel shit, no one’s saying it’s not.” 

“Christ, you should run a meeting.” Nigel took a long pull from his glass, grimacing as the bubbles popped near his nose. 

“You had a choice and you made the right one.”

“Barely.”

“Barely counts for a lot more than you think. Sometimes barely is what gets you through the day.”

“I’m fucking sorry about the kitchen, I just,” Nigel ran his hands through his hair. “Fuck, I read that fucking recipe over and over, I thought I had it. But I fucked it up, just like I fuck up everything.”

If he closed his eyes, he could see his Mamă’s frown. Harlan leaned close, letting his hand fall on Nigel’s arm. “Nigel, there’s always gonna be a fuck up, son. Even if you’re ready, even if you’ve done everything right. No one cares about the fuck up, not really. They care about what you do after. That’s what makes you better.”

Nigel looked over at Harlan. “What would you have done if I got the vodka?”

“Dragged your drunk ass home and started fresh tomorrow.” Harlan shrugged. “But I had a feeling you wouldn’t.”

“You gambled my sobriety on your feelings, old man?”

“Turns out I’m a better gambler than you think.” Harlan squeezed Nigel’s forearm. “Come on, Nigel, we gotta go meet Marcus for dinner.”

“Can I get you anything else?” The bartender glanced at Harlan.

Nigel handed the man a twenty and shook his head. “We’re all done here.”

* * *

“Adam?” Nigel sat on his bed, a plate of Oreos resting on his stomach and Adam tucked into his ear. It was his favorite way to spend an evening.

“You almost drank?”

“Yeah.” Nigel’s stomach clenched, maybe he didn’t want to eat after all. “I know, I fucked it all up-”

“But you didn’t drink?”

“No. I mean, I wanted to. Fuck, I think I still want to, but I guess…I guess I didn’t.”

Nigel could hear the tapping on the other end of the phone, he found himself mirroring it on the bare skin of his stomach.

“I know that’s hard for you. But you made a good choice...and...thank you for making it. I'm very proud of you.” Nigel let his eyes fall closed for a moment, letting Adam's praise wash over him. There was a little noise, dishes clinking in the background. “Did you ever figure out what happened with the Brânzoaică?”

“Yeah, Harlan’s oven’s fucked.” Nigel laughed. “Your dad brought over a thermometer and we checked the heat readings, fucking thing’s off by 70 degrees.”

Adam hummed. “So, will you make them again?”

“Already did, in your dad’s kitchen.” Mr. Raki had handed him oven mitts the second he arrived for poker night. There was a familiar worn yellow box resting on the kitchen counter — Mamă’s recipes still filed neatly on cards inside.

“I found them when we were cleaning out your apartment,” Mr. Raki told him, smiling. “I thought one day…you might want her in the kitchen again.” 

Nigel had pulled out the weathered Brânzoaică card and caressed the edges, smiling at his Mamă’s neat handwriting. He could hear her voice as he read over the instructions.

“They turned out great.”

Nigel could hear the stretch of Adam’s smile, pictured the dimples that framed his mouth. “Good. You should make a batch for your boss.”

“Why?”

“To thank her for giving you opportunities and show her you’re capable of making Romanian pastries.” The tapping noise was back. “It’s good to let your colleagues know that you’re grateful for chances and that you’re always looking for ways to move forward in your career.”

“Alright, gorgeous, I’ll do that.” Nigel smiled, picking up an Oreo. “So, what have you been up to? You get that thing you can’t tell me about?”

Adam huffed, an excited little breath into the phone. Nigel pressed closer to the receiver, trying to imagine Adam lying in bed with him, describing his day. “They asked me to join!”

“Of course they fucking did.” Nigel twisted an Oreo apart and licked the crème. “They’d be fucking stupid not to.”

“Nigel? Will you promise not to say anything?”

“I won’t, but don’t tell me if it’s gonna get you in trouble, darling.”

“No, it’s OK, they said I could tell my family.” Something warm bloomed in Nigel’s stomach. He was still Adam’s family, even after the mess he made of it. “I’m on the manned Mars mission.”

“W-You’re going to MARS?” Nigel sat up, cookies falling to the floor. California was bad enough, how the fuck would he talk to Adam if he was on another planet?

“No! I’m helping with the craft.” Adam scoffed. “I’d be a terrible candidate for long term space travel.”

“Oh.” Nigel grinned. “I dunno, you do have the suit, Adam.”

“Having a replica of an outdated spacesuit hardly qualifies me for-”

“Are you sure? Have you gone to work in it? It’s good to let your colleagues know that you’re grateful for chances and that you’re always looking for ways to move forward in your career.”

“Nigel?”

“Yes, gorgeous?”

“Shut up.”

Nigel barked out a laugh, rolling lazily to pick up the cookies from the floor. “Fine, I’ll shut up, but tell me more about this Mars thing, darling.”

* * *

Nigel didn’t tell Adam that he was right about bringing Judith the Brânzoaică, not right away. He took a box of them in to Judith as a thank you for the apprentice baker position and she had finished nearly the whole box before Georgia came in. They’d asked him about more recipes and marked off a Wednesday morning to look at possibly adding some Romanian pastries to the case up front. Soon, Nigel was showing Judith how his mother made plăcintă cu mere, găluște cu prune and mucenici.

In a month, the bottom right of the display case was all Nigel’s work. Judith had expanded his training and Nigel found himself coming in on his days off to workshop recipes with her. It was grueling, hot work, but it also left him smiling as he walked to the subway, utterly exhausted, but happy.

Adam had the grace not to be smug about being right. Nigel figured Adam was usually right, so he had practice not being a dick about it. Harlan and Mr. Raki stopped by the store at least once a week, always eager to try out whatever Nigel was working on.

By October, Nigel was the main baker under Judith and Georgia, setting bread schedules and suggesting seasonal dishes. Though he was sure Mamă would wrinkle her nose at the concept, the pumpkin spice mucenici sold out in an hour. 

He had balked when Georgia floated the idea of hiring an assistant; what the fuck would he do with an assistant? But the women had insisted it would help with his workload and Nigel found himself interviewing candidates in between bakes. He settled on a kid with a juvenile record and the same desperate look that Nigel recognized in himself. Malik wasn’t the most qualified candidate, but Nigel had a feeling about him.

By the time New York started spraying fake snow in windows and stringing up Christmas lights, Malik had proven to be a solid fucking choice. Nigel might have been a fuck up, but he knew people. The kid was a star employee, great with the customers, and had a deft hand for piping work. Georgia had taken him under her wing as an apprentice decorator.

Nigel had told Adam all this as he absently wrote notes while studying one of Mamă’s recipes. He had this idea for a honey infused caciula lui guguta with a walnut brittle that wouldn’t leave him alone.

That’s probably why he didn’t hear Adam the first time.

“I’m sorry, gorgeous, what?”

“I said I’m coming home on the 23rd, I…” He heard Adam take a slow, deep breath. Nigel counted to ten in his head with the exhale. “I wanted to know if you wanted to have dinner.”

“Oh.” Nigel’s heart started hammering. His mouth opened and formed words, but he knew no sound was coming out.

“Nigel? I meant dinner with my dad, and _uh_…Harlan. I-if you don’t-”

“I’d love to, Adam.”

“Oh, okay,” Nigel could hear the soft breath Adam expelled. “_Uh_, just, please don’t bring the găluște cu prune, I hated them when Mamă made them.”

Nigel smiled, nodding to himself. “Don’t worry, darling. I know what you like.”

* * *

As the days in December ticked by, Nigel tried to keep himself busy. He helped Mr. Raki decorate the apartment. He took extra shifts at the bakery and threw himself into developing some Christmas and Hanukah desserts. He sat with Harlan and watched old comedies on Netflix. He started taking long walks just so he wouldn’t pace a hole into Harlan’s rugs.

His conversations with Adam got shorter.

Every time Nigel said something it sounded stupid. How could he talk to Adam about a mousse mishap when the man listening was literally a rocket scientist? He felt stupid, utterly out of his depth — he really shouldn’t be wasting Adam’s time.

The more he thought about it, the more he wanted a drink, or at least a joint — something to make him forget how fucking stupid it was to be in love with a NASA engineer who lived in California. A NASA engineer who was on his way to a PhD and already dating a woman named Lily. Adam had sprung that little tidbit on him in the first week of December. He said they weren’t serious, but he thought Nigel would want to know about it. Nigel had told him it was great, hands balled so tightly into fists they ached when he finally released them.

He knew what was happening. Harlan had talked to him about what brains could do, how they could trick you into slipping. Didn’t make it any easier.

Soon Nigel couldn’t sleep anymore. He’d spend long nights staring at his ceiling and trying to imagine little glowing stars, the voices in his head whispering that Christmas would be a disaster and he should get some blow to make it through.

He burned a batch of bread on December 22, his hands shaking as he tried to draw breath. Georgia sent him home, giving him a hug and telling him to get some rest and come back after Christmas. He felt like he’d been fired, though Georgia told him they’d see him back on December 27. Nigel had walked home, not bothering to call Adam and pausing outside one of the clubs he knew sold good X. Maybe if he got some pills, something to settle himself the fuck down, he’d be OK when he saw Adam again.

He handed Harlan three hits of X when he walked in the apartment. The older man just raised his eyebrows. “How many were here when you bought them?”

“Three.”

Harlan nodded. Nigel watched as Harlan walked to the bathroom and flushed away his last hope of acting calm. When he returned, Harlan sat on the sofa, waiting for Nigel to join him before he spoke. “You’ve been fiddle footed for a week now, Nigel.”

“Yeah.”

“Have anything to do with dinner tomorrow?”

“I-” Nigel took a deep breath, plowing his fingers through his hair. “I shouldn’t be this shaky about it, I know but-”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know, what can I do?”

“If the thought of seeing Adam has you wandering in here with shit I have to flush-”

“Then… I’m not ready to see Adam.”

Harlan hummed in agreement. He raised a big hand to rub between Nigel’s shoulder blades.

“But, I told Adam that I’d be there, and you know how he can be if people change plans, fuck up his schedule.” Nigel yanked at the ends of his hair; he felt the anxiety creeping into his throat. “I’m gonna ruin fucking Christmas just like I did when-”

“Adam is a grown man, Nigel.” Harlan swatted Nigel’s hands away from his hair, made him settle. “Sometimes you gotta make a decision for you, kid. It’s OK to put yourself first sometimes.”

Nigel glared at his scuffed boots. It didn’t sit well in the pit of his stomach, but neither did being sober right now, and he knew that was the right thing. “Does that mean I can pick what we watch tonight?”

Harlan narrowed his eyes. “Within reason.”

Nigel grinned and grabbed the remote.

* * *

Nigel sent Harlan to Mr. Raki’s by himself, laden with Joulutorttu and a special cinnamon star bread he’d developed just for Adam. The bread had a good crumb texture, not too dry, but not the soft loaves that Adam had hated in youth. Harlan and Mr. Raki had eaten about 8 loaves of the stuff before Nigel felt he’d gotten the cinnamon ratio right.

He felt like shit for not going, for sending Harlan by himself, but he also didn’t feel the need to run downstairs and to the nearest bar — and that was pretty much the only Christmas miracle Nigel could hope for. He ordered Thai from his favorite place and sat on the floor in the living room, shoveling suea rong hai into his mouth as he watched horror movies on Netflix.

Merry fucking Christmas.

When his phone rang, Nigel jumped. His gut clenched when he saw the name on the screen. Still, he answered it.

“Hello.”

“I’m so proud of you, kid.” Nigel could hear the smile in Mr. Raki’s voice. “And I’m coming home with Harlan tonight to give you your present in person, so don’t go to bed too early.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I am. And you’re going to hand over this jelly tart recipe, Nigel.”

“It’s Joulutorttu.”

Mr. Raki laughed. “Harlan swore they were jujubes.”

Nigel shook his head, his mouth quirking slightly. “Is…is Adam OK?”

“You want to talk to him? He was going to call you, but he wasn’t sure if that would upset you.”

“I don’t want to upset him.”

Mr. Raki snorted. “Well, how about I upset you both, and then you can blame me. I’ll see you in a bit, Nigel, here’s Adam.”

“Wait! Don’t put me on if-”

“Nigel?”

“Adam.”

“Oh, did you not want-”

“I’m so fucking sorry-”

They both paused. Fuck, this was a bad as it used to be in April. Nigel waited, letting the moments tick out. He winced when he heard Adam’s fingers tapping on a table — just a five-minute cab ride away.

“Did…” Adam took a deep breath. “Did you not want to see me?”

“I did-do, I…fuck.” Nigel let his head fall back against the sofa. He was fucking it up, like he always did. He was ruining Adam’s Christmas. He thought of Adam, standing in the cold outside Hayden, waiting for a boy too fucking stupid to show up.

“What happened?”

“It’s not…I just want to be in a better place.” Nigel closed his eyes. Christ, he sounded like a twat. He took a deep breath, in for ten, out for ten. Adam did the same, the deep breath in his ear soothing Nigel just a bit. “I’m worried. I’m worried I’m fucking different and we’ll fight, or that I’m fucking boring and you won’t — I just…I got to the point that I wanted-”

Nigel choked on the words. _I don’t know if I can survive you leaving me again if I’m sober_. He knew he should say it. Say anything.

“Would seeing me hurt your sobriety?” Adam’s voice was so small.

Nigel curled in on himself, his eyes shut so tight he could see little fireworks behind the lids. He considered saying no, telling Adam that he could never hurt him. Instead, Nigel whispered the truth. “I’m not sure.”

“Oh.” Nigel pictured Adam’s face, his mouth in a tight little line as he took in the information. “Is it OK that we’re talking?’

Nigel’s gut clenched. He couldn’t lose the talks, the knowledge that he had Adam’s soft voice waiting for him at the end of the day. That would kill him. “Yeah, that’s OK. I love talking to you, Adam.”

“OK, good.” Adam sounded so calm, so composed. Nigel remembered the boy who lost it when playground plans changed. He would always love that kid, but he thought he might love this new man more. “We’ll keep talking, then.”

Nigel huffed. “Adam, I’m sorry. I know I fucked up Christma-”

“Nigel? Do you remember when we were in ninth grade? Those two boys found me and shoved me in the shower after gym class?”

“Yeah.” He’d known something was wrong when Adam wasn’t waiting for him outside biology. Nigel had run to the locker room as fast as he could.

“When you found me in the shower, you turned the water off and sat with me, remember?” Adam took a slow deep breath. He never liked talking about the shitheads that gave him trouble, it made him anxious. “The bell rang, and I knew we were late for class, that I was making you late too.”

“Adam-”

“Do you remember what you said?”

“No.” Nigel only remembered the wet smell of Adam’s hair; how clammy and cold his damp skin was as Nigel tried to warm it. He remembered too the smell of blood when he found those boys after school. How Mamă had bandaged his torn knuckles, frowning softly, but kissing his forehead when he told her it was for Adam.

“Take all the time you need, gorgeous. I’ll be here.” Nigel grinned at Adam’s attempt at a Romanian accent. His eyes pricked a bit as Nigel tried to picture the face Adam was making. “You can take time too, Nigel.”

“I don’t wa-”

“I’ll be here.”

“Thanks, gorgeous.” Nigel’s voice was low, emotion roughing his words.

“Merry Christmas, Nigel.”

“Merry Christmas, Adam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Next Up:**  
Nigel continues to work his sobriety and has a date with Gabi...   
*runs away*


	16. Graduate School - Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nigel settles some things with Gabi, and makes a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your author again has another movie screening (seriously, what is up with Wednesday screenings in February, movie sturios?). I've answered SOME comments, but I promise I'll get my ass back and answer **ALL** of them soon. Please bear with me while I scamper around like a nut. I promise, I'll respond. I live for the comments.

Nigel walked from the bakery to Mr. Raki’s house, as he did every night when he closed. It was a long trudge after spending all day on his feet, but it gave Nigel more time to talk to Adam. His darling had told him last week that he and Lily were over, and Nigel tried to feel bad about that tidbit. He wasn't proud that it made his walk home every night feel a little lighter. It helped that the breakup barely seemed to bother Adam.

The weather was frigid in February, but Nigel didn’t mind, he was learning about Mars as he made his way past the closed shops, a bag of freshly baked pretzels under his arm. Harlan would be thrilled when he got to poker night.

Nigel found he didn’t even mind the wind as he told Adam about the bar mitzvah cake emergency he and Malik had faced. By the time he’d gotten to Mr. Raki’s building, the street was almost quiet. Nigel frowned. He’d gotten off later than normal tonight because he had baked the pretzels. “Adam? Isn’t it time for your dinner? Do you want to-”

“Can you talk longer? I can just eat dinner and talk.”

“What about your shows?” Nigel huffed as he rode the elevator, stamping his feet to work the chill from his toes.

“I’d rather talk to you.”

Nigel glanced up at Mr. Raki’s apartment door. They were probably waiting for him to start poker night. Nigel leaned against the wall by the door and let himself sink to the floor. “I’ve got time.”

Adam started talking about his logistics calculations. A manned mission to Mars was far more complicated than sending a probe. Right now, Adam was assigned to the propulsion team, but he was going to consult about the landing devices in a few weeks too.

“What about the astronauts?”

“What about them?”

“Well don’t you have to worry about…I don’t know…space madness?”

“Space madness? All of the candidates have gone through extensive psychological testing and-”

“So, you’re not worried about one of them going nuts, waking up the others from hyper sleep and hunting them for his own amusement?”

“Hyper sleep? Nigel what are you-”

“And then there’s the xenomorph question…”

Nigel heard a huff. “You’re teasing me.”

“Sure, dismiss xenomorphs, they always do…”

“You’re not funny.” But Nigel could hear the laughter on the other end of the phone. He leaned his head back, his cheeks burning they were stretched so wide.

The door opened, Harlan’s head popped out, looking around until he spotted Nigel by the door. He turned to yell into the apartment. “Marcus! Don’t call the hospitals, he’s fine!”

“What? Where is he? He knows he’s supposed to-”

“He’s fine. Little goofy looking, but I guess that’s to be expected.” Harlan grinned. He bent down and grabbed the bag full of fresh pretzels. He opened the package and pulled out a pretzel, taking a bite. “Tell Adam, hello. We’re starting the game and the pretzels without you.”

Nigel nodded, holding up his middle finger.

“Was that Harlan? Do you have to go?”

“What? No, gorgeous, I’ve got nowhere to be. Now, tell me about the landing devices.”

* * *

Nigel drummed his fingers on a box of fresh Brânzoaică, smiling at the waitress in Boundless Plains Espresso. He didn’t go to the Battery often, but he agreed to make the trip for Gabi. He ordered another latte and mulled the idea of ordering avocado toast. He’d rather a good plate of eggs, but fuck it, it would probably make Gabi laugh to see him with the fancy fucking toast he used to sneer at.

Before he could decide, the door banged open. He smiled at Gabi, still bundled up against the March wind. Her hair was shorter, the vibrant red strands framing her face and making her blue eyes glow. God, she was beautiful. Nigel waved. The moment she saw him, Gabi’s mouth ticked up, before settling into a frown.

Fair. He hadn’t given her a reason to smile in a long time.

She moved to his corner table; her expression still stern. When she finally reached him, she shed her coat and stood before him expectantly. He looked at the large swell of her stomach, how it dwarfed her little frame. She must have been pretty far along. He wanted to reach out, touch her stomach and tell her how beautiful she was, but neither seemed the thing to do.

“Hello Gabi.”

“Nigel.”

“Sit, please,” Nigel gestured to the chair across from him. “You, _uh_, you look…”

“Fat?”

“Beautiful.” Nigel smiled as she settled in front of him. “You always look beautiful, darling.”

Gabi’s mouth tightened at the word. “Is this about the money you sent? I never wanted your fucking money and you can have it b-”

“No, no, I-” Nigel smiled and nodded when the waitress returned with his latte. Gabi ordered a tea. “I just, I wanted to say I was sorry.”

“Sorry?” She squinted at him.

“I was a stupid fuck.” Nigel sighed, sipping his coffee. “I, well I blew up both our fucking lives and I figured the least I could do was tell you that.”

Gabi slumped a little, features softening. She bit her lip, Nigel let the silence stretch. She'd talk when she was ready.

“We were both stupid. I knew you were in love with someone else. I thought I could…” She laughed to herself, shaking her head. “Little girls love their fairy stories, don’t they?”

Nigel grinned. “Beauty and the dealer?”

“Something like that, yeah.” Gabi took her tea from the waitress. She added honey and watched him. “I was going to love you until you were clean and successful. And after a few months, I just figured I’d stay married to you until you died.”

Nigel snorted. “Safe bet.”

“I dunno, looks like you’re still alive.” She reached out and tugged on the hair falling into his face. “You good, healthy.”

“You should see me when I wake up in the mornings.”

“I remember…it wasn’t pretty.”

They both laughed. Nigel felt his chest tighten. She was beautiful, again, lighter somehow. He’d almost taken that from her. He nodded at her stomach. “Did you find a better fairytale?”

She smiled, letting a hand fall to the bump. “I did.”

“Is he another dealer?” Nigel grinned at the sour face she shot him. “No, you wouldn't...one of those musical fucks in the group I was always accusing you of fucking?”

Gabi laughed. “He’s an accountant.”

Nigel made a face, but smiled. “Sounds exciting.”

“I had enough of exciting.” Gabi raised an eyebrow, but she returned his smile, playing with a packet of sugar. “I love every boring bit of him. He loves me. No secret box of notes, no parties that last three days, no binges — do you know what we do most nights?”

Nigel shook his head.

“I practice while he cooks. I don’t think I’ve been to a club in…” Gabi sipped her tea. “It all seems so long ago.”

“Gabi, I’m sorry. I’m sorry you had to-”

“I don’t regret it. Well, not _all_ of it…” Gabi ran a hand through Nigel’s hair. It’d been nearly two years, but the touch was so achingly familiar. He let his cheek rest on her palm. “How could I regret that smile?”

“I regret so fucking much,” Nigel said, pulling back. “But not you. Never my darling Gabi.”

“So…what now?”

Nigel leaned back, letting himself relax. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure you’d come. And if you did come, I was pretty sure I’d be getting a face full of hot coffee. I don’t know where to go from here.”

“I could still throw the tea at you, if it would make you feel better.”

Nigel grinned. “Think we could be friends?”

Gabi studied Nigel for a long moment, there was mischief in her eyes. “Want an invitation to the baby shower?”

“Yeah, sure,” Nigel raised his chin. “What do you need for the party, a kilo? Couple dozen hits of molly?”

“Asshole,” Gabi kicked him gently in the shin, laughing.

“You’re right, you’re right, it’s a kids party,” Nigel winked. “I’ll just bring some weed.”

* * *

Judith decided to let Nigel handle the case pastries while she and Georgia focused on the influx of Easter special orders. He was so busy with the bakes that he and Malik had to hire two more helpers. Nigel picked two more misfits from the sea of applicants; kids that might need a good skill and a way to make a living other than the ways he found when he was younger.

Nigel was making good money now, nothing close to the amounts he saw when he was dealing, but enough to get his own place. Still, there was something nice about hearing Harlan’s snores and knowing Mr. Raki would be over every other week for Poker Night.

He liked living with family.

Instead of trying to strike out on his own, Nigel focused on expanding Silver Moon Bakery. He and Georgia were looking at a few properties in Brooklyn. Something with a bit more room should they want to expand the kitchens and start that online ordering business Judith had been talking about.

It was good, hard work and Nigel felt like he was finally building something. He didn’t hear Mamă crying anymore when he was left alone with his thoughts. He still wanted to drink, but the impulse didn’t hound him like it had.

He smiled more, sitting with Mr. Raki as they attended a Vox Filum show uptown or while teaching Stephanie how to properly egg wash a pie crust. If this was it for him, it wasn’t bad at all.

But at night, as he laid in an empty bed with Adam pressed close in his ear, he knew he wanted something more. He started putting away as much money as he could, lazily searching for apartments near the Ames Research Center, just…in case.

* * *

“Nigel?”

“_Hmmm_?” Nigel stretched in his bed, glancing at the clock. It was late, but he could never bring himself to tell Adam goodbye.

“If, _uh_…if I c-came home next week. W-would you like to try and see me again?”

Nigel blinked. He was wide-fucking-awake now. “Yeah, yeah I’d like that a lot.”

Adam sighed into the phone, his voice sounded a little brighter. “OK, good. I thought maybe Thursday. That’s your day off, isn’t it?”

Nigel settled deeper into his bed. The fact that Adam always seemed to remember his days off and early days never failed to make him feel warm all over. He touched the tattoo on his neck. “It’s a date, gorgeous.”

“It's a date," Adam parroted. Nigel could picture the smile on his face, the exact slant of Adam's dimples. "Oh…it’s very late for you, isn’t it?”

“That’s OK, Adam, I-”

“You have to open in the morning. You should get some rest.” Adam admonished. Nigel smiled at the chastisement. “Goodnight Nigel.”

“Goodnight, Adam.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Next Up:**  
Not even gonna front — it's the chapter you've all been waiting for.


	17. Graduate School - Part 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A meeting, a confession, and a decision...

“This is a terrible fucking idea, Harlan.” Nigel frowned at the tie he was wearing.

“Jesus, Nigel, you look like a banker.”

“Huh?”

Harlan tugged on the fabric around his neck. “Lose the tie.”

Nigel pulled the tie from his neck, frowning at his reflection. A black fitted button down and his best jeans – the ones without the oven burns on them. It didn’t seem like enough.

“I still think this is a mistake.”

“Don’t listen to the fear, OK?”

“I’m not afraid of Adam, Harlan.”

A strong hand grabbed Nigel’s elbow, turning him to face Harlan.

“You’re terrified of him, son.” He rubbed Nigel’s bicep. “You’re terrified of hurting him, but you’ve already done that…and you both survived. This mistake you think you’re making, that’s just fear.”

Nigel stretched his neck, letting the vertebrae pop. “I’m an addict with a pastry job — would you want me with your kid?”

“I would if he was you, so would Marcus, you know that.” Harlan raised a hand to Nigel’s hair, breaking up the gel he’d tried to put in it earlier. “But none of that’s important. What’s important is what you want, and what Adam wants.”

“He deserves something better, someone who’ll make him-”

“You’re always so fucking worried about making him happy, well go on and do it, then,” Harlan spun Nigel to the door and slapped his ass. “Get out of here before you try to put on another ugly tie.”

* * *

Nigel heard Adam shout _I’LL GET IT_ the second he rang the doorbell. He ducked his head to smile at his shoes. Three footfalls later, the door swung open and Nigel finally saw the face he dreamed of nearly every night.

Adam was a little older, his face thinner and chin a little sharper than Nigel recalled. He wondered absently if Adam was eating well enough in California. But the eyes and the smile were still the same. Nigel’s whole being flushed hot under the weight of that wide smile; he returned the expression as he watched Adam’s bright blue eyes flit all over his body.

Adam stepped forward, arms open, then paused. He frowned for a second and moved back, the embrace deflating in the air. Nigel’s gut twisted at the sight. Instead, Adam offered a hand, and a firm shake, just like Mr. Raki had taught them over a decade ago.

“Hello, Adam.”

“Hi.”

They stood in the doorway, hands clutched, frozen but grinning.

“Nigel?” Mr. Raki’s face popped over Adam’s shoulder, he gently pulled Adam back and stepped to wrap an arm around Nigel’s shoulder. “What are you doing in the hallway? Come in, sit.”

Nigel let Mr. Raki usher them into the apartment, stealing glances at Adam, who was tucked under his father’s other arm. Adam was watching him too, eyes racing back and forth over Nigel’s frame. They were deposited on the sofa in the living room, eight inches between them on the couch. Nigel wanted to close the gap, scoot closer.

Instead, he cleared his throat.

“So, uh…Marcus,” The name still sounded odd on Nigel’s lips, but Mr. Raki had insisted. “How are you do-”

Mr. Raki clapped his hands. “I’m sorry, I’ve got something in the oven. I know you’re the baker in the family, but I thought I’d try making the Joulutorttu from your recipe.”

Nigel started to stand. “You want me to-”

A firm hand shoved Nigel a little too forcefully back onto the sofa. “No! It’s your day off. You boys should-”

“Dad, I didn’t like the Joulutorttu.”

Mr. Raki’s mouth thinned for just a second, but he smiled when he turned to Adam. “Then I’ll find something for you too. I’ll be in the kitchen.”

Nigel narrowed his eyes, watching Mr. Raki race back to the kitchen.

Adam turned to him. “That was odd.”

Nigel felt a smile creeping onto his mouth. “I…I think he was trying to let us talk alone, get caught up.”

Adam’s brows furrowed. “Oh, well, of course we were going to catch up. You came here so we could catch up.”

Nigel nodded to himself. The silence stretched between them, not uncomfortable, but heavy, full of things that needed to be said.

“Tell me about Silver Moon Bakery. You said you were going to suggest that program to Judith.” Adam always started their conversations by asking about Nigel first. He said a girlfriend told him that it was polite and socially more acceptable to inquire into others’ lives before starting to talk about your own. Nigel never thought his days were that interesting, but he loved Adam for asking anyway.

“Yeah, Judith liked the idea. Said I should put some ideas together, we could look into it for next spring.”

“Did you know there’s a grant?”

“For what?”

“The Department of Labor's Employment and Training Administration has a grant for businesses willing to train those deemed at-risk youth or people in need of job placement after arrest or hardship. You could apply for that, and it would probably give you most of the funds you would need.” Adam’s fingers began to tap on his thighs.

“How did you know about that?”

“I looked it up after you told me about the idea.” Adam stilled his fingers, then let them fall into the gap between them. They clenched for a moment, then returned to his thigh. “I th-thought you might-”

“Thank you, gorgeous.” Nigel’s heart was hammering in his chest. He watched as Adam’s hand fell into the gulf of space on the sofa again. This time, Nigel grabbed the hand with his own, linking their fingers. The world stilled. Adam wasn’t breathing, Nigel sure as fuck wasn’t breathing. Everything seemed to be waiting on something, anything to happen.

Adam exhaled, a small smile coiling the corner of his mouth. He squeezed Nigel’s fingers. “Are you still looking into Fourth of July recipes?”

“Yeah, I was thinking about berry hand pies, maybe a variation on a burek?” Adam was looking at their joined hands. He pulled back to run the pad of his thumb over a callous on Nigel’s palm. “How, _uh_…how’s the propulsion design going for the Mars craft?”

“Oh, really well. I think I have to go to Huntsville in a month and examine a prototype. I’m not looking forward to the trip, but I am interested to see how my specs look and see it tested.” Adam let go of Nigel’s hand to scratch his nose. Nigel resisted the urge to chase Adam’s hand, grab the man before him and draw him close. Nigel smiled when Adam brought his hand back to Nigel’s soon after. “The landing system is difficult, though. I think we have a few more months of development before we get a prototype.”

“You’ll get it.”

“I know.” Such a simple matter-of-fact declaration. Christ, Nigel loved that his Adam knew his worth.

He laughed, bringing his hand up to rub at the tattoo on his neck. “I’ve missed you.”

Something soft landed on his neck. Nigel dropped his hand, freezing when he felt Adam’s cool fingers peeling back his collar and tracing the stars along his jugular.

“This is beautiful,” Nigel could feel Adam’s breath on his neck, his nostrils filled with the scent of him. A shiver shifted the muscles in Nigel’s shoulders. “The orientation of the Ursa Major, is that-”

“From my room,” Nigel rasped. “The sky you made for me.”

Adam shifted. Nigel found himself looking into bright blue eyes. They traveled around Nigel’s face, flitting from feature to feature. “You made it a tattoo?”

“I always thought of them as our stars.” Nigel could feel his face burning. He looked down at Adam’s mouth, which was already twisting into a slight frown. Nigel huffed. “Not literally, I know everyone has those stars. But these particular stars — they always made me think of you.”

“You got it for me?”

Nigel raised his eyes, surprised when he was met with a steady gaze from Adam. “Yeah, gorgeous, I guess I did.”

Adam smiled; his fingers still settled on Nigel’s neck. “Does that — _uh_, does this mean you think we’re friends again?”

Nigel coiled his fingers around Adam’s wrist. “Adam, you never stopped being my best friend.”

“Oh.” Adam’s eyes danced away from Nigel’s, but the smile stayed in place. “Good. I can give you these now.”

“Give me what?” But Adam was already pulling away. He kept his hand on Nigel’s as he moved, tugging him along. “Adam?”

Adam just tugged Nigel, past the kitchen and toward his bedroom. Nigel had jerked off to this very scenario three nights ago, but it seemed unlikely Adam just had to fuck him to consummate their friendship. He let himself be led. Nothing bad ever came of following Adam Raki.

The room looked the same as it had last week, but somehow it was brighter — more vibrant because of the man now contained in its walls. Adam walked to his old desk, picking up a cardboard box and offering it out to Nigel.

With a small frown, Nigel drew closer, brushing his fingers along Adam’s as he took the box. Inside, in neat stacks labeled with date ranges, were Post It notes — large columns, five years’ worth of columns. His fingers were trembling as he reached into the box, brushing gently along the blue and purple paper.

“I write one every morning while I eat breakfast. A few are about the new propulsion system I designed, they’re not technically classified, but they are proprietary to NASA patents.”

Nigel nodded, he couldn’t look away from the box.

_Saturn is the only planet in our solar system that is less dense than water. _

_ Jupiter’s moon Io is the most volcanically active body in our solar system._

_ The gravity on Mars is approximately one-third that on Earth._

The words began to blur, Nigel blinked and a tear hit the corner of a purple post it, consuming the curve of an _h_. His knees wouldn’t hold him, Nigel thudded to the ground clutching at the box. He couldn’t breathe, the weight of Adam’s love pushing the air from his lungs. Nigel tried to fathom why an addict baker was worth all this love, all this time. The years he’d wasted, the years he could have…

A hand landed on his shoulder, patting uncertainly. “I-I didn’t mean to upset you. I thought you’d like them. Nigel? Nigel do you want me to get-”

“I love you,” Nigel confessed to the pile of Post Its. He couldn’t look at Adam.

“I know, you’ve told me.” Adam’s voice was at his ear now, an arm tentatively snaking around Nigel’s shoulders. “I know I said we weren’t friends, but I think we are now, best friends like you sa-”

Nigel shook his head. “Not- not like that, not as a friend.”

He could feel Adam studying his face, looking for clues that were so hard for him to pick up on in people’s expressions. “I know you’re upset, but I don’t understand why, Nigel.”

“I love you,” Nigel glanced up, trying to tamp down the sobs in his throat. “Like…like I was supposed to love Gabi.”

“You didn’t love Gabi?”

“Not like I love you.”

“Oh. But,” Adam’s brow furrowed. “You-You said that you didn’t. That w-what we did was j-just a physical release.”

“I know gorgeous, I lied.”

The arm around Nigel tensed and began to withdraw. Nigel knew he shouldn’t grab for Adam, that too much time had passed and there was no way to trust that Adam would still allow for it, but he couldn’t bear the idea of Adam pulling away. He abandoned the box for Adam, fisting his hand in the boy’s shirt and pulling him close. “I know, Adam. I know I shouldn’t have…but you were so special. And I was so afraid-”

_You’re not good enough,_ Nigel’s mind supplied. _You weren’t good enough then and you’ll fucking ruin him now._

A hand wrapped around Nigel’s, not pulling him off, just holding him to Adam’s heart. Gentle fingers smeared the tears across Nigel’s cheeks.

“You were never afraid of anything.”

“I’m afraid of everything. I-” Nigel shook his head. He felt Adam shift and closed his eyes. He didn’t want to watch as Adam pulled away.

Warm arms wrapped more soundly around Nigel; Adam settled them backwards until they were leaning against the bed. “Find your breath.”

Nigel found himself following Adam, deep, slow breaths. After a few moments of breathing together, Adam’s fingers stroking through Nigel’s hair, Nigel chanced a glance over his shoulder. Adam’s mouth was tight, Nigel could feel himself being rocked. He realized that Adam was uncomfortable with the gestures, but trying his best to soothe Nigel the way he soothed himself.

“I’m OK, now Adam,” Nigel’s voice shook badly, but he did his best to pull his shit together. He tried to pull away, give Adam space. “It’s OK.”

The arms holding him didn’t yield. “Tell me why you’re afraid.”

“Adam-” Nigel struggled in earnest; this whole thing was fucking mortifying.

“NO.” Adam’s tone stopped him. He looked back at Adam, that determined frown still in place. “Tell me.”

Nigel blinked at Adam. His darling was so composed, so fucking strong. So much had changed since he’d seen Adam last, but one thing hadn’t.

“I’ve been in love with you since I was ten.” Something broke inside Nigel’s chest. He’d never let himself admit that out loud. He felt woozy with the realization. “I didn’t have a word for it for so long. I thought it was just friendship, but — But when I understood…I was afraid I’d lose you if I told you. So…I didn’t.”

“But I asked you.” Adam’s lip trembled slightly; his fingers started tapping lightly on Nigel’s back. “You lied when I asked you.”

“I couldn’t-” Nigel tried to pull away, but Adam’s hand moved up, stroking into his hair again. Those soft fingers killed any fight Nigel had left. “I wasn’t good enough for you, Adam. You deserved someone special, someone who wouldn’t drag you down with them.”

“You didn’t drag me down, you made me go to Berkeley.”

“You’re a goddamn NASA rocket scientist and I…fuck, why do you still care about some baker in New York?

“Technically, I’m a rocket engineer — one who took an internship with NASA because his best friend encouraged him.” Adam tilted his head. “You can be a baker in California, if you want.”

“I’m not good e-”

“You’re good enough.” Nigel shook his head. Adam’s fingers curled around the hair at Nigel’s nape, pulling him close. Steady blue eyes met Nigel’s. “You’re good enough.”

Nigel raised a hand, but dropped it. He leaned into Adam’s touch.

“It’s OK if you need help, Nigel, it doesn’t make you bad. Dad says you blame yourself for everything, which is ridiculous. You couldn’t possibly be to blame for everything that’s ever happened.” Nigel snorted at that, smiling when he felt Adam’s soft laugh brush across his face. “I need help all the time. I need schedules and sometimes I need breaks…I also need to read at least 50 Yelp reviews before trying a new restaurant because I like to be prepared for new environments and-”

Adam shook his head. “You never minded that I needed help.”

“I wanted to help you.”

“I wanted to help you too, Nigel,” Adam ducked his face down. The hand at Nigel’s back strayed, moving to play with the buttons on Nigel’s chest. “But you never let me help. You didn’t even tell me how sick Mamă got, or when she died.”

“You fucking hate hospitals, Adam. You had classes and you-”

“I don’t like sick people,” Adam agreed quietly. “But I cared about Mamă. I-I could have held you when you cried, kissed your hair like you used to do for me. I- I don’t like loud emotions or when you get upset, but I would have liked knowing I was helping you.”

Nigel swiped a hand across his face. “I was no good to anyone then. You needed someone to help you in California. I couldn’t even help an old woman.”

“I don’t need anyone, Nigel. I…I was scared for a long time, overstimulated and upset, but…I figured out how to keep myself calm. I take breaks now, when I need them. I can adjust my schedule.” Adam smiled. “I can do it myself. I don’t need someone to help me. But if I have someone to help me…I-I want it to be you.”

Nigel’s skin buzzed. He felt shaky again. Adam would never say _love_, not like Nigel. But, this, this was better than love. Adam wanted Nigel there, every day — that was more profound to Adam than an undefinable emotional concept. “You want it to be me?”

“Yes. I’ve always wanted it to be you.” 

Nigel lunged, burying his face in the crook of Adam’s neck and wrapping him in a tight hug. He heard Adam huff, but he relaxed into Nigel’s embrace. Nigel concentrated on taking Adam in, breathing him in great gluts and re-memorizing his smell. There was something sharper to him now, his shampoo smelled like wood and spice, not the sweet mint and flower scents Mr. Raki used to buy for him. 

He froze when he felt Adam pulling back, reluctantly loosening his grip so he could look into his darling’s eyes. “I’m sorry, I should be clearer. My last girlfriend said that I needed to work on clear statements of romantic intention.”

Nigel smirked. “I know what you-”

Adam held up a hand. “I love you. It’s very important to say that you love someone, because even though the concept is vague to me, it’s meaningful to others.”

Nigel’s brows shot up. He wondered who the hell had instilled that little nugget in Adam’s brain.

“I love you and I have sexual feelings for you. I want us to be together, uh…permanently. I think you should be involved in determining what that means, but if you want to get married again, or maybe just live together, either is fine — NASA's guidelines state you’d be recognized as a partner either way so I don’t have a preference.”

Nigel let out a watery laugh. “Are you sure about all this? I…It’s been so long and what if-”

“We learned to help each other before.” Adam said reasonably. “And once we get a working schedule in place, I think we’ll be fine. I think our history together gives us an advantage. You were the first person to ever try to understand me, other than Dad. You know what types of situations make me tense. You licked my Oreos.”

Nigel barked out a surprised laugh. Adam grinned, running a hand along Nigel’s cheek. “That wasn’t meant as a euphemism, though I see now it could be…Do you, do you want to be with me? In a monogamous sexual relationship?”

“Yeah, gorgeous, I really fucking would.”

Nigel leaned forward. Adam met him halfway.

The kiss was soft, feather light against Nigel’s mouth. He brought his hands to Adam’s cheeks, chest lurching when the felt the smile there. Nigel nudged Adam’s nose with his own, easing the angle to deepen the kiss. Adam made a soft noise, opening to Nigel.

When they broke apart, Adam was grinning. “You’re a better kisser than you were in high school.”

Nigel laughed. “I’m so fucking glad you approve.”

He kissed his darling again.

Nigel could have lived in that moment, licking into Adam’s mouth and running his hands softly over the face that he loved so. He would have been content to share breath with Adam Raki for the rest of his life.

Adam, however, was not content.

He pulled back, mouth slick and panting. “I think we should have sex. Do you want to have sex?”

Nigel nodded, the blood in his body was already enthusiastically leaving his brain for his groin. He started to reach for Adam, but a thought froze him in place.

He’d spent so many years high off his ass and fucking anything that gave him half a glance. Anonymous mouths and hands in bathrooms. Pretty boys who liked blow and being bent over and taken hard. Girls with big tits and glittery makeup that bounced all over his clothes. Years of conquests and he could barely remember a face, even whether he enjoyed them.

It hadn’t mattered, he was drifting on his comforting wave of booze and pills and nothing seemed to matter then.

But this, this mattered.

“Nigel? Nigel if you’d like to wait that’s OK too. We could just k-”

“What if it’s bad?” Nigel could feel the panic fluttering in his chest.

“I’m not sure what you mean? The sex? I’m good in bed, I’ve checked.”

Nigel smiled at the earnest face trying to reassure him. “No, darling, it’s just…The last person I had sex with sober was…”

God, it was Gabi. It was Gabi the day she left for her father’s house in Jersey. His Mamă was still fucking alive, then.

“What if I can’t-” Nigel frowned. He could get it up just fine, the tightness in his jeans proved that, but fuck what if he wasn’t any good sober? What if he didn’t last or couldn’t come or…

“It could be bad.” Adam tugged on a strand of Nigel’s hair. “Prolonged drug and alcohol abuse could hamper stamina or the ability to maintain an erection.”

The panic in Nigel’s chest graduated from a flutter to a rattle.

Adam smiled. “But that’s OK. I’m sure we can figure out something if the sex is bad. Mutual masturbation is always fun. We could try blowjobs. I could order you a cock ring, we could build your stamina by using a prostate massager to-”

“Adam?” Nigel brought his hand to his love’s jaw, stroking softly. Adam Raki wouldn’t give up on him, not even if he was a lousy fucking lay.

“Do you have an idea?”

“I do, gorgeous.” Nigel couldn’t help the crooked grin that stretched his face. “Let’s shut the fuck up and try this, yeah?”

Adam nodded, eyes lingering when they met Nigel’s. “Yeah.”

Firm hands began to push at Nigel’s chest. He let himself be moved, grinning into short pecking kisses as Adam flattened him to the floor. Once he had Nigel prone, Adam straddled him, smiling as he set to work unbuttoning Nigel’s shirt.

Nigel’s hips arched, rubbing his half-hard cock into Adam’s ass. He was already panting, his dick filling out so quickly it left him light headed. For a moment, it was bliss. Nigel rutted against Adam, chasing the friction and delighting in the way his movements made Adam’s eyes flutter gently.

Adam leaned down, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the tattoo on Nigel’s neck. When his darling’s teeth scraped over the flesh, Nigel shivered.

“Do you like that?” Adam whispered, his breath raising goosebumps on Nigel’s wet skin.

“Y-yeah.” Adam’s mouth latched onto his neck before Nigel could get the word out. He hummed, craning his neck to give Adam better access. He wanted to wear Adam’s marks on his skin, however he could get them.

Adam’s hands pushed Nigel’s shirt to either side of his body, then paused. He pulled away from Nigel’s neck and Nigel tried not to think about the protesting whine that escaped this throat. He turned to watch Adam as he studied Nigel’s chest.

“This is new.” Adam toyed with a few strands of Nigel’s chest hair, thumb grazing over his nipple.

“What?” Nigel swallowed as Adam’s hands tangled into his thatch of chest hair, tugging softly. “I h-had chest hair in high school.”

“Not like this,” Adam murmured, his nails scraped down Nigel’s chest then sunk back then. “Nothing like this.”

Nigel grinned, preening under the attention. He reached a hand up to grab Adam’s shirt, pulling it from his pants. “I want to see you.”

Adam fumbled with his buttons, shimmying out of his shirt and leaning back to hang the it neatly on the chair by his desk. Nigel reached up, tracing a large flat palm over soft skin. Adam was still so fair, he nearly glowed under Nigel’s hand. “You’re fucking perfect.”

“Thank you,” Adam leaned into Nigel’s hands, arching like a contented cat under the caresses. “P-please give me your shirt.”

Nigel raised up, yanking at his shirt. He managed to tangle his arms together, making Adam laugh. His darling swooped under the fabric to press a kiss to his chest before helping free Nigel.

Adam hung Nigel’s shirt with his own, the sleeves touching. When he settled back over Nigel’s hips, Adam ran both hands along the furry expanse of chest below him, scraping his nails just enough to set off fine tremors in Nigel’s body.

“You’re so-” Adam’s hands froze, his face falling. Nigel opened his mouth to ask what had happened when he felt the fingers trailing over his side. “This is what made you call me.”

Nigel ran a finger over Adam’s belly, stroking at the fine trail of hair beneath his navel. “Yeah.”

“Nigel, it’s-” Adam’s fingers traced the scar, teasing at the puckered skin. “I thought you were going to die.”

“Gorgeous, I-”

“Why did you call me?”

Nigel smiled softly, running a hand along Adam’s side, memorizing the little constellation of moles under his ribs. “I thought I was going to die.”

“You should have called-”

“I thought it was over,” Nigel shrugged. Adam continued to stare at the scar. “I just wanted to tell you I loved you, hear your voice one last time.”

Adam moved out of his hands. And for five horrible seconds, Nigel convinced himself that Adam was leaving. But the younger man only scooted down slightly, so he could kiss the long scar, sealing his lips to it over and over again. Nigel let out a needy noise, hands digging into Adam’s curls. He held on tight as Adam kissed his way back up Nigel’s body.

When they were pressed chest-to-chest, Adam caught Nigel’s chin, looking down at him with a serious expression. “Promise me if you ever think you’re going to die again, you’ll call an ambulance.”

“Adam-”

Adam waved a dismissive hand in the air. “I know you love me, and you know I love you — there’s no need to waste time establishing that when medical help could be on the wa-”

Nigel wrapped his arms around Adam and rolled on top of him, pressing kisses into his shoulder with exaggerated _mwuah _noises. He continued until Adam was laughing and squirming beneath him. Nigel lifted himself up on his elbows, eyes bright as he brushed a curl back from Adam’s head. “I swear, gorgeous. I so much as stub my fucking toe…I’ll call you from the ambulance.”

“Thank you.” Adam shifted, opening his legs to let Nigel settle between them. Nigel rolled his hips experimentally against Adam’s, groaning when Adam shuddered. Nigel started rutting slowly, his clothed cock rubbing against Adam’s, the friction nearly unbearable. Adam moaned, long and wanton, before looping a leg over Nigel’s ass and pressing into Nigel’s thrusts.

Nails raked over Nigel’s shoulders as they found their rhythm. Nigel bent to kiss his darling, slipping his tongue into Adam’s open gasping mouth. Nigel’s whole body felt alight, as if he was being torn apart only to be reformed into something better, stronger, fused with the man below him.

“N-Nigel, h-harder.”

“Fuck, gorgeous, I’m gonna-”

“Hey, boys, Harlan just called and wanted to- WHOA.”

Nigel froze, alarms blaring in his head as he looked up and saw Mr. Raki. Well, the back of his head. The only father Nigel had ever known was steadfastly facing the wall, but the tips of his ears were bright red. “Adam what have I told you about shutting the door?”

Nigel tensed, shifting to scramble off Adam. His heart was pounding. He felt like he was 13, and the panic flooding over him was quite overwhelming. Just as he moved to retreat, and possibly crawl under the bed to die, a strong hand clamped around the base of his neck, holding him in place. He looked down to see Adam, who smiled softly at him before arching his neck and lifting his chin, so he could speak to his father upside down on the floor. “Sorry, I forgot to shut it. I didn’t think we’d be having sex yet.”

Nigel gawked down at the love of his life, who was clearly trying to kill him.

“_Ah_ well, remember,” Mr. Raki rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “We shut doors for sex in this house.”

“OK dad.”

Nigel was going to fucking pass out.

Mr. Raki cleared his throat. “I, _uh_, I guess Harlan and I will go see the movie by ourselves. Maybe take a walk after to discuss the show.”

“Thanks, dad. We should be done by dinner time.”

“OK then.” Mr. Raki took a half step, still steadfastly facing the wall, but paused. “I’m uh, really happy for you both. Be safe.”

“Don’t worry, I have condoms.” Adam lowered his chin so he could face Nigel. “I think we should use condoms until we can get a blood test together, don’t you?”

“YOU BOYS HAVE FUN! I’ll get the door.” Mr. Raki was gone with a slam. Nigel could hear hurried footfalls and what he could swear was laughter fading away.

The second the apartment door shut, Nigel rolled to the side, chest heaving. “That was my worst fucking nightmare.”

Adam perched himself on Nigel’s chest, idly raking through his bramble of chest hair. “Why? We won’t get in trouble for having sex anymore, since we’re adults.”

Nigel raised his head to glare at Adam. “You sure? I think we might be grounded.”

Adam grinned. Nigel returned the expression. They both began to giggle like naughty children, falling on each other as they snorted and shook. When they calmed, Adam was sprawled across Nigel’s chest, smiling down at him. Nigel reached up, trailing a thumb across Adam’s mouth.

“We lost our rhythm.” Adam whispered, puffing his lips to catch Nigel’s thumb in a kiss.

“I think we can find it again,” Nigel pressed the pad of his thumb against the swell of Adam’s bottom lip.

“Good.” Adam glanced behind him. “Can we have sex on my bed? The floor isn’t very comfortable.”

“I knew you were the smart one.”

* * *

They slipped the rest of their clothes in relative silence. It took Nigel longer because he had to take several breaks to kiss Adam. But when they were both bare, Nigel hesitated.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just never thought I’d have this-”

“You do.” Adam pushed him to the bed. It seemed smaller now, as Adam climbed on top of him, hard cock bobbing. He settled on Nigel’s thighs like he’d done it 100 times, perfectly comfortable perched atop him. The thought made Nigel’s chest burn. “Do you have a preference? For penetration?”

Nigel blinked. “I…_uh_…” 

“I enjoy both,” Adam leaned forward pulling groans from both of them as their cocks rubbed gently at the movement. He kissed under Nigel’s jaw, lips traveling around the knob of bone to rest at Nigel’s ear. “But it’s rude not to ask your sexual partners for a preference.”

“My preference is you, gorgeous.” Nigel twisted his head to kiss Adam again, only to receive a huff.

“Well obviously, that’s why we’re having sex.”

Nigel grinned, stealing a kiss after the scolding was done. “You got me there.”

“Do you not have a preference?”

“I’ve actually never, _uh_-”

“You’ve never had sex?” Adam was kissing Nigel’s shoulder, their cocks still rubbing gently. It took a moment for the words to reach Nigel’s brain.

“OF COURSE I’VE HAD SEX,” It was hard to sound indignant when panting. Still, Nigel managed a grumble, “I was fucking married, Adam.”

Adam looked up and leveled a glare at him, resting his head against Nigel’s bicep. “Sex with a man, Nigel.”

“I’ve had sex with men too.” Nigel mumbled. He didn’t know why he felt so guilty admitting that to Adam — he knew Adam wouldn’t care. It still felt like he’d been unfaithful. “I’ve just never…received.”

“Oh, that’s fine. We can-”

“Wait. I think, I think I’d like to…try it with you,” Nigel felt his face heat. Adam ran a hand along Nigel’s chest, kissing softly along the arch of his shoulder.

“You don’t have to if you’re unsure.” Adam looked up. “It won’t make sex more significant. It’s significant because it’s you.”

Nigel smiled, leaning into Adam and nudging him into a soft, seeking kiss. “Adam?”

Adam hummed into another kiss, his hands roaming down Nigel’s stomach, kneading the slight swell there before wrapping a hand around Nigel’s cock.

“Stick your dick in me before your fucking father comes home.”

Adam smiled, squeezing the base of Nigel’s cock before giving it a stroke. “OK.”

Nigel let his head fall back on the pillow, his eyes tracing over the faded stars on the ceiling. He found their stars and smiled. Adam was in his orbit, as he always should have been. He moaned softly as Adam found a rhythm, a strong hand sliding up and down his shaft as another ran over his body, scraping lighting across his stomach and tenderly stroking at the scar on his side.

“Are you ready?” Adam shifted forward to press a kiss at the base of Nigel’s throat.

“Yeah, gorgeous.”

“If at any time you want to stop, you can revoke consent and I will-”

“Adam, you’ve got my enthusiastic fucking approval,” Nigel hissed, thrusting shallowly into the tunnel of Adam’s fingers. He was starting to leak, making the rough friction a little smother. He could feel a tight knot coiling in the pit of his stomach.

Adam smiled. He released Nigel’s cock, leaning forward to rummage in his nightstand. Nigel couldn’t resist. He banded his arms around Adam’s back and squeezed, stealing as many kisses as he could. Adam laughed, stroking Nigel’s cheek. He dipped down for a proper kiss, slotting their mouths together and licking into Nigel’s mouth. Nigel moaned, utterly consumed by the man above him.

The pulled apart slowly, Adam running his nose along Nigel’s, eyes still shut. Nigel rubbed their cheeks together before whispering. “Sorry darling, needed another kiss. Get your lube.”

Adam nodded. He reached into the nightstand and pulled out a small bottle of lube and a condom before moving to the foot of the bed. Nigel spread his legs, giving Adam room to settle on his knees between them.

“At first, this will feel odd,” Adam told him. Nigel smiled at Adam’s serious tone. His darling always believed in being prepared. “But once I stimulate your prostate it should feel good. If it doesn’t, we can adjust the angle, or if you prefer, we could just try my fingers at first and work our way up to penile penetration over a few weeks, or we-”

Nigel hooked a calf around Adam’s hip, drawing him forward. “I love you, Adam.”

“I love you too.” Adam looked confused for a moment, then frowned slightly. “Am I talking too much? Sometimes I talk too much and people tell me that kills the mood. But I know you’ve never done this before and I wanted you to be aware of what could happen.”

Nigel settled back on the pillows, shivering when Adam ran a hand along his inner thigh. “I know, it’s why I love you.”

Adam smiled then, a little bigger and looser than before. He bent to press a kiss to Nigel’s thigh, earning a choked little noise from the back of Nigel’s throat. He uncapped the lube. “I know this will feel different, but try to relax.”

It felt fucking cold. Two cold, slick fingers running between his cheeks and pressing against his hole. Nigel tightened instinctively, his heartbeat ticking up in panic.

“Find your breath,” Adam took Nigel’s cock in his left hand, squeezing gently at the base for a second, still stroking his other hand over Nigel’s hole. “Deep breaths, Nigel.”

Adam dipped down to press a kiss to Nigel’s balls, before raising his head slightly to press a soft, sucking kiss to the tip of Nigel’s cock. Nigel moaned, his voice breaking as Adam’s lips tugged softly at his foreskin. “Good, Nigel, keep breathing.”

Another sucking kiss, another slick pass of Adam’s fingers. The lube was warm now and Nigel’s head started to fill with pleasured static. “A-Adam.”

The man in question let Nigel slip into his mouth, flicking his tongue along Nigel’s frenulum before pulling back off. The fingers rubbing against his ass were maddening now, he clenched and pressed against them, wanting more than a teasing touch.

Over the static in his ears, Nigel could hear the click of a cap again. Another cool sensation, and then Adam was breaching him, one finger rubbing gently as it worked in and out of his body. Nigel hissed, the sensation setting his teeth on edge, yet still not enough. 

Adam’s mouth was back on his cock, lips pressing back the foreskin as he laved the head. Everything in Nigel drew tight, that familiar pressure knotting and pushing. He squirmed, bringing a hand to Adam’s hair. “Adam…A-ADAM!”

Immediately, Nigel was bereft of any touch, he felt cold and exposed without Adam on him. “I respect that you’ve withd-”

“I’m not withdrawing anything. I just didn’t want to come before…” Heat rose up his throat.

“Oh.” Adam nodded. “I’ll just finger you, then?”

Nigel nodded, feeling like a teenager.

Adam’s finger slipped inside him easily this time, and Nigel rocked onto it more fully. It didn’t feel odd anymore. When Adam slipped the second finger in, Nigel sucked air through his teeth. Adam ran a hand over Nigel’s lower belly as he moved his fingers, and Nigel let himself be soothed by his darling. He had just gotten used to rocking against Adam’s hand when his darling crooked his fingers and pressed.

Nigel’s world went white. For a moment he thought he came, he knew damn fucking well he screamed.

When he started breathing again, Nigel glanced down, Adam grinned at him and stroked firmly inside him again, sending sparks up his spine.

“Fuck, Adam.” Nigel panted.

“I know.” Adam smiled, stroking that magic fucking spot again. Nigel’s back bowed, arching him off the bed.

“Fuck fuck _fuck_, A-Adam,” Nigel grabbed for him, he needed Adam to fuck him, he needed-

“Not quite yet,” Adam soothed, nuzzling into Nigel’s grasping hand and kissing his palm. “Just a bit more.”

The third finger slid into him like silk. The stretch felt so fucking good he was moaning with every movement. He was beyond embarrassment, a current running through his skin making it feel too tight and too hot. All Nigel knew in the world was he needed Adam inside him or he’d tear himself apart.

Nigel sank both hands into his hair, pulling at it to feel something other than the sweet building pressure in his balls. His whole universe began and ended where Adam’s hands touched him. He gripped the pillow, arching again when a new fissure ran up his spine.

He knew he was talking but not what he was saying, his tongue thick and loose as Adam continued to carve out a place for himself. He cried out when Adam’s fingers left him, hollow and desperate. He raised his head to see Adam tearing open the condom. “Gorgeous, please.”

Adam bit his lip as he rolled the condom over his hard cock. Nigel thought his heart might pound directly out of his chest. Adam looked up and grinned, eyes holding with Nigel’s as he settled between Nigel’s legs. He tensed for a heartbeat when he felt the blunt press against his hole, but when Adam’s eyelashes fluttered at the sensation, Nigel felt himself relax.

Nigel focused on Adam’s face as he was breached, his beautiful darling framed by glowing stars. When Adam bottomed out, he leaned over Nigel, soft breaths bathing over Nigel’s chin. “_Oh_. You feel so good.”

“Darling,” Nigel whispered, nosing into a soft kiss. “Fuck, baby, move for me.”

A strong hand gripped Nigel’s thigh, raising it up and hooking it over Adam’s hip. The new angle meant Nigel saw stars on every thrust, moaning loud when his darling drove home. “God…g-Adam, h-h-”

“Harder?” Adam huffed. Nigel nodded, arching under Adam’s thrusts, his leaking cock leaving messy trails along Adam’s stomach. “So good, Nigel. You f-feel so good.”

Nigel rolled his hips in time with Adam’s, his eyes sightless as he moaned. He was adrift in sensation, every inch of his skin tingling as Adam drove into him. A firm hand landed on his chest pinning him under Adam. Nigel was grateful for it, without it, he was sure he’d float away.

Adam moved his hand from Nigel’s thigh to circle his cock, the added pleasure of a tight fist to fuck throwing Nigel over the edge. He came howling Adam’s name, clawing at the sheets as he spasmed. Adam fucked him through the sensations, hips slowing but still sinking deep. When they began to stutter, Adam dug his nails into Nigel’s chest, tugging at a fistful of hair as he came.

Nigel pulled Adam to his chest, whining softly when Adam slipped from him. They lay entwined, stealing lazy kisses and running their hands along sweat slicked skin, both grinning like they’d discovered something new and wholly their own.

Eventually, Adam pulled away slightly, scrunching his nose. “The condom is uncomfortable and your semen is tacky on my stomach. I want to cuddle more but this is quite unpleasant. I’m sorry.”

Nigel raised an eyebrow. “I’ve got lube dripping out of my ass, Adam. Let’s shower.”

Adam brightened a little. “We can still cuddle afterwards.”

“You’re goddamn right we will.” Adam crawled over Nigel, pulling off the condom and heading toward the bathroom. Nigel stood to follow and blinked when the first step made him feel unsteady and sore. “Fuck, Adam? Does your ass always feel like this after?”

Adam’s head popped back around the door. “Yes. But you get used to it.”

Nigel nodded and gingerly followed Adam to the bathroom. He’d get used to it — he didn’t mind the sound of that.

* * *

“Pluto can’t be smaller than North America.” Nigel frowned at the Post It in his hand. He was sprawled naked on Adam’s bed, neither in the mood for clothes after they showered. Adam leaned over to look, his damp hair brushing Nigel’s cheek.

“It’s smaller than the United States, actually.” He let his chin rest on Nigel’s shoulder.

“That’s fucking small for a planet.”

“It’s not a planet, it’s a-”

“Don’t you fucking start with that shit.”

“Most scientific authorities agree that it’s classification is now dwarf planet.” Adam held up an Oreo to Nigel’s mouth. When Nigel had tried to go outside for a quick smoke, Adam had frowned and pressed him back in the bed, promising to return with something Nigel could use to sublimate his nicotine craving. Nigel was surprised when Adam had returned from the kitchen with the cookies to eat in bed, but Adam had assured him it was OK — they had to change the sheets anyway.

“Most?” Nigel licked the crème from the cookie, making sure to swipe Adam’s fingers with his tongue. “Most isn’t all, darling.”

“It’s the majority.” Adam popped the cookie in his mouth.

“Yeah well the majority used to believe the Earth was flat, darling.” Nigel put the Post It aside, picking up the next from the pile on his chest. “Don’t worry, when you’re proven wrong, I won’t rub it in.”

Adam smiled, there were bits of Oreo scattered along his teeth. Nigel’s felt something swell to bursting in his chest. He dropped the note in his hand, tangling his hand in Adam’s hair and bringing him in for a chocolate flavored kiss.

“What was that for?”

“Because I can.”

“Nigel, when I go back to California, will you come with me?” Adam looked down, hands tapping lightly between them. "I know you'd have to tell Judith and Georgia, and probably train a replacement, but-”

“Of course, darling. I can get my own place and we can-”

A hand curled around Nigel’s arm. “Your place is with me.”

Nigel nodded. “You’re right, gorgeous, it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Next Up:**  
Another time jump, to the morning before the manned Mars mission launches. What's been happening in our boys' lives? A lot, actually.   
...also a surprise cameo, you all didn't think I forgot him, did you?


	18. Epilogue: Dr. and Mr. Raki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning before the Mars mission launches, Nigel reflects on how far he and his husband have come...and how much further they can go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...this has been a long and angsty ride, hasn't it? I want to again express my undying love for Llew, who read all my mistakes so you wouldn't have to, and to Gwilbers, who is the best beta ever and deserved a story dedicated to them (perhaps a better story, but I tried).   
This whole story started out as just the first chapter and this chapter, and I decided to fill in the years in between...with just chapter upon chapter of angst. Sorry Nigel.   
If you've read this far, thank you so much for coming on the journey.   
If you've bookmarked, kudos, or commented - I love you all and I wish I could send you Post Its.   
Thank you.

Nigel pressed Adam’s cheek to the shower tiles, one hand tangled in his hair, the other steadying Adam’s hips as he thrust. Adam moaned, rolling his hips into each thrust. 

“That’s it, Dr. Raki, you take it so fucking well.” Nigel threw his head back, the water from the shower running down his back. Adam rarely got up at 4 with Nigel, who had to prep dough and get the bakes ready for the day. But today Adam had trailed after Nigel toward the shower, sucking sleepy kisses onto his husband’s neck while the water warmed.

“Nigel, _oh_, r-right t-th-_ah_!”

“Is that the spot, gorgeous?” Nigel growled next to Adam’s ear. “Fuck all those big words out of you, did I?”

Adam panted, making little whining noises as Nigel fucked him against the tile. When Nigel noticed one of Adam’s hands trailing low, he snatched it, pressing it above Adam’s head.

“No no no, darling,” Nigel nipped at Adam’s shoulder. “We both know you can come like this.”

“Ni-Nigel, please,” Adam pushed against Nigel, but was held fast.

Nigel changed his pace, slow and deep. He let go of Adam’s hair and hands. “If you move your hands from where I put them, I’m pulling out.” 

Adam nodded, arching his back as Nigel grabbed both hips. “Come on, darling. Come on my cock like a good boy.”

“N-Ni-” Adam rubbed his head against the tile. Nigel slid one hand forward, cupping Adam’s balls and tugging softly.

“Come on, dirty boy, spill,” Nigel hissed, his control slipping. Adam keened, spurting all over the shower wall. Nigel shoved himself forward, biting into Adam’s shoulder as he came. He could feel his darling shivering against the tiles and started to pull back.

“N-no wait,” Adam murmured, still a little hazy from his orgasm. “Stay.”

“Always,” Nigel whispered. Adam liked to be pressed down after a hard fuck. Something about Nigel on top of him and inside him soothed him through the intensity of it. He kissed the back of Adam’s neck, rubbing his nose into the wet curls. “I love you.”

Adam mumbled something, already slack in Nigel’s arms. It sounded like _I love you_.

* * *

Nigel sat two mugs on the counter, smiling when Adam took his tea. Early mornings were the only time Nigel really wanted cigarettes anymore, but he settled for black coffee and the knowledge that Adam would be proud of him for giving up another vice.

No pills, no booze, no cigarettes — fuck, Nigel had gotten boring in his old age.

Usually, Nigel poured his coffee in a to-go mug and headed for the bakery on Ellis Street, but he wanted to spend more time with his husband, who seemed a bit clingy this morning. Nigel was always happy to let Adam cling. 

Adam had loaned Nigel a third of the money to open Ivona’s Kitchen a year ago. And though Nigel hated the idea of taking anything from Adam, he couldn’t exactly refuse a wedding present. The bakery, which featured traditional Romanian fare and plenty of space themed cookies and cakes, had been doing well enough that Nigel figured he could pay Adam back in another year’s time.

“Don’t you have to go?” Adam’s fingers tapped on the mug.

Nigel shook his head. “I texted Darko, he’ll cover for me.”

The bakery had qualified for a Department of Labor grant six months ago, and Nigel had immediately taken on an assistant. Darko was a foster kid with a few stints in juvenile hall by the age of 16. He sneered and cursed at first, but Nigel had been patient. He knew a scared, lost boy when he saw one.

After a month, Darko was coming in early to learn about breads. He’d knead alongside Nigel, watching the older man carefully and copying his movements. He’d asked early about the tattoo on Nigel’s forearm — a blue Post It note with the words _Marry me?_ printed in looping handwriting.

“It’s how my husband proposed.” Nigel had said. Darko didn’t comment, but the boy smiled to himself as he went back to his kneading. When the bread was baked, Darko handed his loaf to Nigel and told him he should share it with his husband. 

After two months, Nigel trusted him to wait on customers and be polite. Three months ago, he’d given the boy a key and pretended not to notice when the kid wiped away a tear with the back of his hand.

Adam had taken to Darko immediately; the boy had been over for dinner once a week for nearly five months. Darko would follow Adam around the kitchen like a puppy, offering to help plate food or wash dishes. He’d even made a batch of Nigel’s SuperNova Sugar cookies to bring to Adam. Five years ago, Nigel would have been furious about some pissant kid trailing after his Adam, but now, he found it sort of sweet. Who was he to blame someone for falling for Adam Raki?

Adam looked up from his tea. “Is he coming for dinner tonight? It’s Monday.”

Nigel shook his head. “I told him to come celebrate with us Tuesday.”

Smiling faintly, Adam sipped his tea. “Oh. That’s good. He can meet Harlan and Dad.”

Nigel laughed. “I’ll take him with me to pick them up at the airport. They’ll have him playing poker before dinner.”

Adam hummed, his expression distant. His fingers continued tapping on his mug.

“You feeling OK?” Nigel shifted to press his leg to Adam’s. “About the launch?”

“Hmmm?” Adam blinked; he looked drawn. “Oh, yes. We’re doing final checks today.”

“I know, gorgeous.” Adam had been keeping later and later hours. Nigel could see the stress building, making Adam erratic, but there was little to be done. They’d just have to get through it — they always did.

“Oh…right.” Adam looked up. “Is the dog shirt clean?”

“I’m picking it up from the cleaners today, gorgeous.” Adam’s blue shirt with multicolored dachshunds had become a talisman for the engineering department. A few of the interns had designed t-shirts for the rest of the project members — a little dachshund in a spacesuit, sitting on Mars. Adam hadn’t liked the material, but Nigel wore it to the bakery often.

“Please remember, because I wanted to wear it tomorrow.” The tapping on the mug was getting louder.

“I know, Adam.”

“The team likes when I wear it on milestone days. They call it lucky. I know it’s not, but if the team thinks that, it’s best to wear it to keep them from becoming nervous and-”

“Adam?” Nigel wrapped his hand around Adam’s on the mug, stilling his fingers.

“Yes?”

“I’ll get the fucking shirt.” Nigel promised. “I’ll make sure it’s tucked into your trousers before you head off and I’ll peel you out of it with my teeth when we get home, OK?”

Adam’s mouth twitched into a ghost of a smile. “OK.”

Nigel raised a hand to tug on one of Adam’s curls. His hair was getting long, he must have skipped his monthly haircut. “The checks are going to be fine.”

Adam furrowed his brow. “I know, I’m very confident in my work.”

“I know that, darling,” Nigel tucked a strand of hair behind Adam’s ear. “But you’ve been working late for a month and your schedule’s fucked.”

“I’m starting to spiral again, aren’t I?” Adam frowned.

When Adam encountered a problem with the landing system five months ago, he and his team had worked long hours. Adam ate when he could, came home at ungodly times, and would wake with Nigel at 4am so he could head back to work. He kept the pace up pretty well for about a month, then completely melted down over the sight of Nigel’s flour-dusted shirt slung over the corner of the bed.

Adam had screamed, throwing a Franklin Mint NASA Apollo XI Lunar Module at Nigel’s head before smacking his own forehead into a mirror. Nigel tackled him to the floor before any other damage could be done, letting his darling rage and shriek in Nigel’s hold. It had taken Adam a long time to settle, a long time of clawing at Nigel’s arms before he even heard the murmured space facts in his ear. When he finally found his breath, he nearly passed out in Nigel’s embrace, surrounded by shards of mirror.

Nigel had put him to bed, calling the team to tell them Adam had the flu and calling Darko to let him know he’d be in charge that day. He kept Adam in bed, only letting him up to use the bathroom or eat. When Adam was awake, Nigel would lay with him, watching _Mercury 13_ and feeding him Oreos he’d licked clean. Adam didn’t fight, didn’t protest cookies on the bed, too mortified by the claw marks on Nigel’s arms and the deep worry lines on his face.

On the second day, Adam kept Nigel in bed — pressing apologies and kisses all over his body. Nigel had smiled at the attention, running soft fingers through Adam’s hair and letting himself be adored. He thought about a day two years before, when Adam laid with him after he’d slipped. He accepted a beer from a colleague, didn’t even think about it at first, but the resulting shame Nigel felt when he realized what he’d done started him spiraling. Adam had found him hours later with another open bottle and a half-packed bag, ranting about leaving to save Adam from his bullshit. Adam had taken the beer quietly and poured it out, shoving Nigel to the bed.

They’d laid there for nearly a day — Adam murmuring statistics about recovering after relapsing and swearing Nigel was strong enough to start again. Nigel had his doubts, but Adam had kissed him, asking him to try. He rode out his shame on a wave of Adam’s love. When the voice in his head finally stopped hissing what a worthless piece of shit he was, Adam’s voice was still there, whispering how much he loved Nigel and what a good man he’d become. The next morning, Nigel called Harlan, made a promise to check in with him and Adam once a week about how he was feeling about his sobriety. He hadn’t fucked up since, but he never let himself get lazy about his sobriety again.

Adam had mouthed along Nigel’s neck, drawing his attention. He looked exhausted as his eyes flitted up. “I’m sorry, Nigel. I’m ashamed I hurt-”

“What’s our deal?” They had sorted it out once Nigel was 90 days clean again, written it on a Post It note that Nigel still kept in his top drawer.

“Only one of us gets to lose it at a time.” Adam murmured, snuggling closer. “So the other can keep them safe.”

“Yeah, well, it was your turn.” He tightened his grip on Adam. “And I’m here to keep you safe until you’re OK.”

“I know, I still feel bad.”

“Really? I feel great, I haven’t got laid so much since I dealt.” Nigel grinned, jostling Adam and digging his fingers into his ribs until his husband couldn't hold back his laughter.

Adam figured out what was wrong with the landing gear’s design on day three, and Nigel had let him go back to work. Adam promised he’d stick to his schedule better, and he had been a man of his word…until the final weeks before the launch.

The final checks process was daunting, but necessary, and Adam had done his best to cope with another erratic schedule. Nigel hadn’t said anything, had ignored Adam’s snappish attitude when he didn’t get enough sleep and sent Darko to the offices every day with lunch to make sure Adam was eating. Still, the daily pressure and general chaos was starting to fray his darling at the edges again.

Now, Nigel pulled his husband into a kiss, squeezing him tight. “You’re getting to be a bit of a fucking pill again, my gorgeous boy…but I think I can live with you for another day.”

“I’m sorry, Bibic.” Adam squeezed him back. “I’ve taken off next week. All of it. I thought I’d get myself back on a good schedule, and if you can take a few days off, we could spend them having sex and reconnecting as a couple. I read it’s important to do that if we’re going to maintain a healthy marriage.”

“If you’re telling me I can fuck you full time…I’ll sell the bakery now.”

Adam smiled. “Maybe when I’m head of the department, and we don’t need the second income.”

Nigel tapped Adam’s nose, grinning when his husband wrinkled it in mild annoyance. “I’m holding you to that.”

Adam relaxed into Nigel’s arms; his head cradled under Nigel’s chin. Nigel kissed Adam’s hair before pulling back.

“Here.” Nigel grabbed a Post It pad from the kitchen table and wrote a quick note on it. He pulled the paper from the pad and fastened it to Adam’s t-shirt. “A fact for you today.”

Adam pulled the note off his shirt and read it before looking up. “_Adam Raki is sexy as fuck and his husband is going to ride him ‘til he screams _isn’t a space fact, Nigel.”

“Maybe not, but it’s a stone-cold fact just the same, gorgeous,” Nigel grinned when Adam wrapped his arms around Nigel’s neck and gave him a thorough fucking kissing. “Alright, alright, you need to eat a proper breakfast before you go in and I have to make sure Darko hasn’t set the place on fire.”

“OK, I think I’ll read for a few hours before I go in.”

Nigel would rather Adam get some more sleep, but he knew that would likely just throw him further off balance. He leaned in to peck a kiss on the small scar along Adam’s forehead.

“I love you to the moon and back,” Nigel said, just to watch his husband’s nose wrinkle in distaste.

“I have explained to you several times that you can’t love someone for 477800 miles.” Adam complained.

“Can too.”

Nigel turned to leave, but Adam grabbed his arm. “Wait.”

He watched as Adam jotted something on a Post It, flipped it, and keep writing.

“Jesus, what are you writing? Do we need bigger notes?”

Adam ignored him, finishing up the note and sticking it to Nigel’s chest. “Have a good day! Don’t burn yourself.”

“One fucking time I-”

“Three times.”

Nigel glared, but it didn’t dampen Adam’s bright expression. “I still have all my fingers and toes, you little shit.”

“For now.” They both laughed.

Nigel grabbed Adam for one more kiss.

Nigel was halfway down the stairs before it occurred to him that he hadn’t read Adam’s note. Pulling it from his shirt, he leaned against his car to look at the square of blue paper.

_ When the Magellan lands on Mars, a small capsule with Mamă’s ashes and a Post It stating 'Adam Raki loves Nigel Ibanescu' will be buried there._

Nigel sniffled slightly, his eyes prickling as he turned the note over.

_ This means I love you to Mars and back, which is 709.51 times greater than the distance to the moon._

Nigel barked a laugh, slipping the note carefully into his breast pocket. He grabbed his phone.

“Darko? Hey man, I’m going to be later than I thought today. Huh? Oh, Adam's fine, don't worry. Do you mind opening? Thanks, kid.” Nigel turned on his heel and ran back up the stairs to their home. He had a few million miles to catch up on; he might as well get started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Next Up:**  
I...don't know. I've got one really porny fic written, but I might save that for Just Fuck Me Up in a few weeks. I'm working on a couple of things and hopefully I'll see some of you when I start posting again. 
> 
> As for this universe? I have an idea about a sequel featuring Darko, and of course our boys. I might write it in timestamp form if you all want it. As always if you have a prompt for this verse or anything at all, come find me on Tumblr or Discord - I'll talk your ear off. ;)

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is complete and I'll be posting weekly.


End file.
